


who cares if i get a little hurt? this whole world's out to get me

by Nerd_of_Camelot



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Smut, BAMF Peter Parker, Badly, Bisexual Peter Parker, Blood and Violence, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Baggage, Emotionally Repressed, Eventual Fluff, Filthy, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Kinks, M/M, Mercenary Peter Parker, Morally Grey Characters, On and off-screen murder, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Alternating, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is a Mess, Porn, Porn With Plot, Praise Kink, Quick Burn, Self-Harm, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, Wade Wilson being Wade Wilson, but like, kinks that are literally almost never discussed beforehand because these two are dipshits, no beta we die like gwen, there really is plot i promise, unreliable narrators, wade and pete are both switches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 06:00:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 26,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24390034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nerd_of_Camelot/pseuds/Nerd_of_Camelot
Summary: After Wade catches Peter mid-job, their previously friendly (but distant) relationship takes a surprising turn. Peter isn't complaining, but he should have learned a long time ago to be careful who he gets close to...Or: Peter and Wade become fuck-buddies when Wade finds out Peter does merc work on the side, and it all goes downhill from there.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Wade Wilson
Comments: 3
Kudos: 125





	1. caught

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick preface notes: Peter is roughly 26, Wade is roughly 30. I don't remember if it's mentioned anywhere in this because I haven't gone back through to re-read it yet, but they've known each other since Peter was 18-ish and Wade was 22- _ish_.  
> Also, I wrote this in like, late 2017/early 2018 and it's just been collecting dust in my Drive so I decided I might as well post this almost 17K mess!  
> ... So that maybe I'll finish it eventually because there _is_ a set plot, I just... Haven't ever finished the next chapter or anything that comes afterwards.
> 
> Anyways enjoy!(?)

If Peter was in the habit of wondering how the hell he got into situations, that would probably be what he was doing right at this very moment.

As it was, however, he’d long since given up on doing that. It was more a waste of time than anything else. And it wasn’t like anything good was actually going to come of sitting in one spot asking himself how in the fuck he’d let his guard down enough to let something like this happen - so instead he was gonna go along with it.

And he  _ was _ going along with it.

“It” being Wade  _ fucking _ Wilson - Deadpool, the Crimson Comedian, the Merc with the Mouth - pinning him to the wall of some old abandoned warehouse. His arms were caught up behind his back, pinned to his ribs at the wrist by the larger male. The merc’s mouth was at his neck, teeth scraping along the skin, and Peter  _ loved _ it. Even if he wasn’t exactly sure when Deadpool had pushed up his own mask.

Besides, there was no use in asking himself how this happened. He knew how it happened.

He’d gotten a little sloppy on the job, hadn’t covered his tracks as well as he liked, and it wasn’t like this fucker wasn’t borderline stalking him anyway, so Wade had found him here. Mid-hit. Mid-job. Oh, the look on his face was obvious even through his mask - astonishment. Surprise.

Peter had finished up as quickly as he could, taking no time to relish the remaining kills as he normally would have. He needed to get the hell out of here. He needed to get back to his apartment and somehow convince Deadpool this hadn’t happened.

He’d tried to leave by climbing out the same window he’d dropped in through, but that was the moment when Deadpool chose to act. He’d grabbed him by the leg, tossed him onto the floor, then picked him up and slammed him face first into this wall.

Peter was sure he’d have a bruise later, and he was  _ totally _ okay with that.

… That aside, he had to admit he wasn’t sure how this had gone from  _ that _ to Deadpool basically molesting him.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Peter managed to ask as Wade finally bit down on his neck for real. He tried not to shudder.

“I never thought I’d say it, Petey, but seeing you blow a guy’s brains out the back of his head was really fucking hot.” Wade all but growled into his ear. He couldn’t help shuddering at that. Wade’s voice, man, it - it  _ did things _ to him. “And here I thought you were a stuck up hero like all the others. Never took you as the type to do merc work on the side.”

“I need the money.” Peter humphed, hoping to God that Wade would take that answer.

“Bull.” Wade snorted.

_ Fuck. _ Peter thought.

“If this was just about the money, you wouldn’t have looked so fucking enamoured with the first guy after you snapped his neck with one hand.” Wade hissed, teeth teasing at his ear now. “If this was just about the money, you wouldn’t be hard.”

“I’m not hard from killing them.” Peter argued, “I’m hard because you’re pinning me to a wall and your voice is fucking  _ hot.” _

He regretted it the moment it left his mouth.

“You like feeling a lil helpless, then?” Wade purred, but mercifully he didn’t bring up the voice thing.

“Does things for me, sometimes, yeah.” Peter agreed amicably. “You gonna do anything about that?”

“Well I was thinking maybe I’d fuck you right here up against this wall, actually.” Wade hummed, “You’re goddamn sexy on the job.”

Peter damn near purred at that.  _ “God, _ yes.” He said, “Fuck me.”

He would be lying if he said he wasn’t interested, and there was really no use in that. Wade was hot. Even if he’d never seen what was going on under that suit, he could gather from looking at him that he was built. Strong. Definitely muscular and  _ definitely _ packing. His hips arched back against Wade’s only half-against his will, brushing a stiff hardness that Peter wasn’t sure was his cock, but also wasn’t sure was a gun.

“You really want me to?”

Peter could  _ hear _ the arched eyebrow.

“If I didn’t I would have thrown you off of me by now.” Peter assured him. “I was considering it before, but if you’re gonna  _ fuck _ me…” He trailed and rolled his hips back again, “I’m quite content with staying right here.”

Wade shuddered slightly. “Never thought I was gonna get to hear you say something like that.” He mumbled, nipping at Peter’s ear again. “You never seemed interested.”

“Only so much interest I can usually show when you flirt.” Peter replied, “We’re usually busy when you try to hit on me.”

“Fair enough.”

Wade rolled his hips against him, and Peter was now certain that that was Wade’s cock he felt and not his gun. He moaned softly. Wade grunted in reply, moving back slightly and releasing his arms.

“Take your coat off, then put your arms back where they are.” He ordered.

Peter pushed away from the wall and obliged, dropping the old, fur-lined coat to the floor carelessly, though he did already miss the extra warmth. He was still wearing a hoodie, sure, but the coat…

He moved his arms back where Wade had had them before, and Wade gave a hum of approval.

“Good boy.”

He was pushed back against the wall much less forcefully than the last time. Suddenly there were gloved hands pushing up under his hoodie, stroking over the tops of his hips, then his stomach. His muscles twitched at the contact. Wade chuckled, removing his hands for a moment before returning them. Peter watched the man’s gloves land atop his coat. And then he felt warm hands that were far from smooth tracing the same pattern to his stomach. This time they moved a bit higher, over his ribs, up to his chest. A thumb and forefinger pinched at one of his nipples, making Peter moan softly and arch his hips back once more.

Wade chuckled again, lips suddenly on Peter’s neck again. He kissed once or twice, then clamped his teeth down rather harshly on the skin at the same moment he began toying with Peter’s nipple. Peter gave a gasp that tapered off into a pleased moan, moving his head to the side to allow Wade more room, despite the pain of the bite.

“Hold your hips still.” Wade ordered into his ear. “And under no fucking circumstances do you move your arms from where they are right now.”

Peter nodded mutely.

Wade’s hands left his chest and dropped to his pants, palming his erection through the fabric. Peter did his best not to buck his hips or move his arms to steady himself. He ended up leaning his collarbone a little harder against the wall to do that instead.

In reward for his obedience, Wade undid his pants and shoved them down to his knees, wrapping a calloused hand around his cock and beginning to stroke.

“You’re doing so good, baby boy.” Wade purred. “Listen to me so well, even though I can tell you’re having trouble already.”

Peter bit down hard on his lip and forced his hips to stay still while Wade stroked him. His instinct was to thrust into the friction, but he didn’t. His legs trembled from the strain and Wade laved his tongue over the bite he’d left earlier.

“Such a good boy,” Wade praised once more. “So good for me.”

Peter whined.  _ “Fuck me.” _ He insisted, embarrassed at how desperate he already sounded.

Who could blame him, though? It had been a while.

Wade snickered. “Patience.” He said soothingly, dropping to his knees behind him. He took up handfuls of Peter’s backside and squeezed the cheeks in his hands before spreading them apart. “Mm. Meticulously maintained, I see.” He commented, pressing a kiss to one of the cheeks in front of him.

“Self-maintenance calms me down.” Peter muttered, cheeks heating slightly now that it was setting in that he was exposed to Wade. One of his most vulnerable spots was just out in the open.

“All the better for us both, I suppose.” Wade said, and before Peter could reply the man dragged his tongue up the crack, over his puckered entrance.

Peter’s hips struggled not to buck backwards and all thoughts vanished from his head for a second. The first one to come back was,  _ Man I’m glad I cleaned that out today, _ followed by,  _ Holy shit Wade fucking Wilson is eating me out in an abandoned warehouse. _

And that was exactly what was happening. Wade teased his tongue over Peter’s entrance once or twice more, then plunged it into the tight ring of muscle. Again, Peter’s hips struggled not to jerk toward Wade’s mouth (or away from it). Wade rewarded his obedience by pulling the muscle out slowly and then thrusting it back in without warning. Peter moaned much more weakly than he would be willing to admit to later.

That felt… Good.

He’d actually never had someone eat him out before, so he wasn’t sure how he’d feel about it. But, as luck would have it, he liked it.

Wade drew back and licked at his entrance a few times. “You likin’ this, baby boy?”

“Y-yeah,” He admitted, choosing to ignore his own stutter.

“Good.” Wade chuckled, licking at his entrance again before plunging his tongue back in.

Peter all but whined at the feeling, hips hitching slightly. It took so much effort to keep them still and he kept forgetting he needed to do that until the last second.

Still, Wade seemed pleased that he was trying at all, and didn’t punish him for the slipups. He just continued on his merry way eating him out.

With each passing second, it became harder and harder to obey the commands he’d been given, but if Peter was anything at all, it was  _ not _ a quitter. His legs and abdomen trembled from the strain of holding still. His cock was achingly hard and, if he wasn’t mistaken, he was drooling a bit.

After what felt simultaneously like an eternity and a single second, Wade pulled away from his ass and stood once more.

“Turn around and get on your knees. Keep your arms where they are.” Wade rasped into his ear.

When he stepped away, Peter obeyed him as quick as he could without seeming too enthusiastic. He dropped to his knees and wetted his lips with his tongue. A swallow. He looked up at Wade.

Wade chuckled when he did so, bottom half of his face still uncovered so Peter could see he was smirking. “Good boy.” He told him.

Peter shivered and tried to tell himself it was from the chill of the air and not… Not because he was kind of getting off on the praise. Because he totally wasn’t. No way. He in no way had a praise kink that he didn’t realize he had before.

Wade unzipped a secret zipper on the front of his suit that Peter had always suspected was there, releasing his cock with minimal effort. Peter’s mouth watered at the sight of this engorged organ sitting pretty level with his face. He stared at it for a moment before lifting his gaze back to Wade’s face. He didn’t even mind that it was covered in the same kinds of scars as Wade’s face and hands.

“Suck.” Wade ordered him, voice low and gravelly.

Peter held back a shudder and looked at the swollen cock in front of his face just long enough to wrap his mouth around the tip before he looked back up to Wade’s face. He made what he assumed to be direct eye contact as he swallowed a few inches down, sucking hard as he lifted his head back up. Wade groaned. His hand landed on top of Peter’s head, fingers threading through his hair.

“Good boy.” Wade growled.

Peter’s cock twitched and he went back down on him, further this time. His eyes shut against his will. He bobbed his head slow and careful, taking more and more of Wade’s cock into his mouth each time. When his nose brushed the material of Wade’s suit he gave a weak moan himself. The very idea of having Wade’s cock far enough down his throat that he was almost at the base was… Hotter than he wanted to admit.

Wade moaned as well and pulled at his hair - not too hard, just to remind him to keep going. It made Peter moan again as he complied with the unspoken order, hollowing his cheeks as he pulled back to the tip. He opened his eyes as he let it leave his mouth with a wet pop. He pressed the flat of his tongue to the underside of the head, swiping it up and over the slit. Wade’s hips bucked.

“Fuck. Such a good boy.”

Peter whined at the praise this time, swallowing Wade down again to try and muffle the noise.

“Aww, what’s wrong, baby boy? You like it when I call you a good boy?”

He whined again, eyes squeezing shut in embarrassment as he got back to work on sucking Wade’s cock. It was hot and heavy and distracting on his tongue. He swallowed around the head when he got back as close to the base as he could get.

“You like it when I tell you how good you’re doing?” A gentle tug on his hair. “Do you?”

Peter pulled off with a whimper after the tug and, though it was embarrassing as hell to do it, he said, “Yes.”

Okay, so, it came out as more of a desperate whine than a simple statement, but that wasn’t important.

“You want my cock in you now, baby boy?” Wade’s voice was little more than a growl.

_ “Yes, _ please.” Peter managed to open his eyes and look up at him, pressing his knees together, “I want it so bad, Wade.”

Wade shuddered. “Get back up.” He ordered, “Back where you were before.”

Peter obeyed, and without being told to he kept his arms where they were. Wade praised him for that, and his dick twitched. He pressed his collarbone against the wall hard to keep himself steady and waited as patiently as he could.

He heard one of Wade’s pouches open and licked his lips in anticipation. The click of some kind of bottle opening. The wet squelch of lube into Wade’s hand.

“This’ll be kind of cold.” The older male warned.

Peter hummed in acknowledgement and tried to stay relaxed as Wade’s cold, slick finger prodded at his entrance. Then it slowly pressed in and he moaned softly. One finger was easy - he regularly had bigger things than that up there just for the sake of cleaning himself out. But it still felt nice when Wade began to thrust it, slow and gentle.

Soon enough, though, a second finger worked its way in, stretching him wider. He moaned louder, partially at the stretch and partially at the feeling of being filled itself. Wade shuddered behind him, and he started with a pretty brutal pace this time around. Peter forced himself to stay loose and pliable even when Wade twisted his fingers  _ just so _ and Peter found himself seeing stars. He bucked his hips back but didn’t move his arms to steady himself.

“Found it.” Wade chuckled.

He didn’t chide him for moving his hips.

He pressed the third finger in a little sooner than Peter was expecting, but his efforts to stay relaxed helped him in that regard. He found himself gasping out Wade’s name the next time he hit his prostate.

“Wade- Wade, please-” He whined, and if he sounded pitiful he ignored it.

“Please what, baby boy?”

“Please just  _ fuck me already.” _ He pleaded, unable to stop his hips from rolling backwards once more. “I can’t take this.  _ Please.” _

Wade trembled behind him. “Fuck. If I’d known you were going to be this cute when you begged for my cock I would have tried a lot harder to get in your pants, Petey.”

_ “Please.” _ He reiterated weakly. “Dammit Wade, you can reflect on your prior failed attempts to seduce me later. Just fuck me.”

“I don’t have any condoms with me,” Wade mused, “You good with that?”

“I don’t  _ care, _ Wade, just. Please. Fuck me.”

Wade laughed. “Beg for it a little more, won’t you baby boy?”

Peter whimpered and closed his eyes. Begging wasn’t something he usually did. He wasn’t used to being told to. But he’d been following orders so well, so far, and if he did good Wade would praise him, wouldn’t he? God, he hoped so. So he swallowed down his pride and said, “Please, Wade, fuck me ‘til I can’t walk straight. I want your cock so bad. Please fuck me senseless with that thick cock of yours.”

Almost before he was done talking, he heard Wade lubing himself up. Then there were lips at his ear, teeth teasing at the shell, and Wade was growling, “Good boy,” even as his dick pressed against Peter’s entrance.

“O-oh, fuck.” Peter resisted the urge to roll his hips back and force him into him. “Wade, please-”

Wade moved his mouth down and bit down hard on the same spot he’d bitten earlier. Peter’s hips bucked involuntarily and shoved the tip of Wade’s cock into his waiting hole. It stung, slightly, because Wade was a little bigger than three fingers and Peter hadn’t been expecting the entrance, but underneath the sting it felt  _ good. _ It felt so good to have someone inside him after so long. He missed the feeling of being full up with someone - he hadn’t gotten to feel it since college. He’d almost forgotten how much he liked it.

Wade cursed softly, hands squeezing Peter’s hips. “Well that wasn’t intentional,” He chuckled hoarsely, “But it’ll work.” He said, pushing himself further into the younger male.

Peter let out a long, filthy groan that only stopped when Wade was finally seated inside him to the hilt. He panted.

“Spread your legs a little wider.” Wade’s voice was soft, but still commanding.

Peter obliged.

“Good boy. Such a good boy.” He praised, “God, you listen so well and you’re so warm and tight around my cock… Couldn’t ask for a better baby boy.” He kissed at the bitemark he’d made, “Been a long time since I had someone listen as well as you do.”

If Peter could have purred, he would have. As it was he had to settle for a weak whimper and his legs shaking while his dick twitched with interest at the praise. Not that it wasn’t already painfully hard to begin with.

“Wade,” He muttered hoarsely, “Move? Please?”

“Of course, baby boy.”

Wade slowly rolled his hips, careful and gentle. Peter groaned, legs shaking more even as his abdomen relaxed. Wade repeated the action, a little faster and less gentle.

Within a few moments he’d worked up to a steady pace with deep, half-gentle thrusts that made Peter moan wantonly. It was just this side of not being enough - so close to the treatment he desperately needed but not quite there.

“More?” He requested weakly between moans, and was rewarded with Wade angling his hips a little differently and thrusting harder. He damn near yelped, though not from pain. More from surprise. “Th-there-!”

Wade took the cue without needing to be told more, continuing to aim directly for that spot and hitting it head-on with every thrust. Peter’s moans increased in volume until suddenly there was a hand over his mouth.

“You keep moaning like that and somebody’s gonna hear you.” Wade warned in a growl that really did it for Peter. “You’re just too loud, baby boy. It’s so fucking hot.”

Peter whined behind his hand, sounds muffled but still there. His legs were shaking so badly now he was barely keeping himself upright. He had only his own relentless pressing of his collarbone to the wall and Wade’s firm grip on his hip keeping him from collapsing entirely.

And, oh,  _ fuck, _ he could feel his release getting closer. He wanted desperately to warn Wade that he was close, maybe even get turned around and kissed, but with his mouth covered neither of those things would happen. He just weakly rocked his hips back in time with a few of Wade’s thrusts, moans getting weaker and more hoarse the closer he got.

Funny that Wade would chide him for being too loud when he was making so much noise himself, though. He by no means sounded like a porn guy or anything, but hell if he wasn’t making it obvious he enjoyed this just as much as Peter did.

When Peter started getting quieter, Wade removed his hand and began littering little kisses and bites over the side of his neck.

“Close, baby boy?”

Peter whimpered and nodded the best he could, still rolling his hips back weakly. Wade made a sympathetic noise and briefly released his hip only to wrap his arm around his waist and pull him flush against him. He wrapped the hand that had previously been used to muffle him firmly around his cock and began to jerk it in time with his thrusts. Peter’s moans got a little louder again, but also much more hoarse.

Wade’s name slipped out of his mouth like a mantra, weak and soft and desperate. He was so close. So close. He was right fucking there, just a little more, just a little more-

“You make such fucking pretty noises for me.” Wade groaned into his ear.

_ “Wade-” _ Peter whined. “Fuck,  _ fuck _ , I’m close, I’m so close, please-.”

“Then come for me, baby boy. And make sure you say my name.” The last part was growled, definitely an order.

Peter hadn’t realized he was waiting for permission, but now that he had it his body reacted. He came,  _ hard, _ and he managed to say Wade’s name like he was ordered to. Or, rather, mewl it, because that was the only thing he could manage.

Behind him, Wade shuddered and bit down on his neck again, muffling his own noises as he followed Peter over the edge. Peter gave a wrecked moan at the feeling of Wade’s load emptying inside him.

They stayed where they were for a long moment, coming down slowly from their highs. Finally, Wade’s teeth unclenched from Peter’s neck and he pressed a gentle kiss to the spot as he pulled his chest away from Peter’s back. Very slowly he removed himself from Peter’s still-twitching hole, watching with predatory satisfaction as his cum leaked out. He took a step back from him and watched.

Peter stayed where he was, arms still behind his back, tears of pleasure in his eyes, mouth hanging open slightly as he panted.

“You mind if I get a picture?” Wade asked before he could stop himself. “You look so good like this.”

“Knock yourself out.” Peter mumbled, glancing at him.

His legs were still shaking. Wade really had to commend him on his ability to stay standing through all of that.

He removed his phone from one of his pouches and snapped a picture of the scene before him. Peter made direct eye contact with the camera, which just made it better. He grinned and tucked his phone back into its pouch, then tucked his dick back into his suit.

Peter took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “This is gonna be  _ fun.” _ He muttered.

“What?”

“I get to try and get home with cum dripping out of my ass.” He huffed.

“No you don’t.” Wade chuckled. “Get down on your hands and knees, okay, baby boy?”

Peter gave him an odd look, but obeyed for the most part. He rested on his elbows rather than his hands - big whoop.

Wade knelt down behind him and grabbed hold of his ass once more. “Coulda done this while you were standing,” He noted, “but I noticed you were shaking. Didn’t wanna be the kind of asshole to force you to stay standing.”

Peter mumbled a thank you, but he still didn’t seem to understand what was happening.

… At least until Wade’s tongue lapped up some of the cum leaking down the inside of his thigh. He shivered and let out a small “oh,” which only served to amuse Wade. He didn’t dwell on it, though, instead lapping up the remaining cum that had already leaked out, up to Peter’s twitching hole. Peter made a weak noise when his tongue dipped inside. Wade was aware that he was probably overstimulated and that this wouldn’t help, but there was little else to be done. The least he could do was make the cleanup pleasant.

He spent the next few minutes carefully eating him out until there was nothing else for him to lap up and all he was doing was making Peter whimper and whine.

“There you go, baby boy.” He said as he pulled back. “All cleaned up.”

Peter hummed and pushed himself up onto his hands, then tried to push himself to his feet. His legs were the consistency of jelly, though, so he didn’t manage much. He sighed and rested his head against the wall. “This is fine.”

“I could carry you home,” Wade offered, amused.

Peter hesitated, then sighed again, cheeks heating. “Please?”

“Sure thing, baby boy.” He leaned down to put his gloves back on before collecting Peter’s coat and offering it to him.

He took it gratefully and put it on with some difficulty, burying his face in the fur lining on the hood. Wade lifted him carefully into his arms and exited the warehouse.

Peter was asleep by the time they got to his apartment.

Wade dug around in Peter’s pockets a little until he found his keys, unlocked the door, and entered. He quietly kicked the door shut behind him. It took a few minutes of looking around to find Peter’s bedroom in the waning light from the sunset, but when he found it he opened the door carefully and laid Peter down on his bed.

He divested the sleeping man of his shoes, then his coat and hoodie, and tucked him in.

He was about to exit the room when he heard the man shift and quietly say, “Wade?”

“Yeah, baby boy?” He asked, turning to face him.

Tired eyes gazed at him through the gloom. Finally Peter averted his gaze and the last thing Wade heard him say before he turned over and curled up was, “Thank you.”

“No problem.” He said, and then he was gone.

Peter curled in on himself tighter and fell back to sleep.


	2. tag, you're it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings for this chapter: Peter kills a dude and it's sort of graphic. Wade is in a violent headspace for the majority of this chapter! Peter gets shot in the leg. They are generally unhealthy with each other which is standard fare in this universe.

A month was an awful long time to go without seeing Deadpool.

But that was how long it had been, now. One whole fucking month since their little rendezvous in the warehouse and Wade dropping him off in his apartment. A month, and Peter hadn’t so much as caught a glimpse of Wade on the streets since. It was annoying, and probably would have been even moreso if it weren’t for the painful tug in Peter’s chest at the knowledge.

He was by no means in love with Wade - he didn’t know him well enough for that.

But Wade’s absence hurt nonetheless because it made it pretty damn obvious that all he’d ever wanted was sex. A one-time fling. Which, you know, Peter would be fine with if Wade had just fucking  _ told _ him that. But the way he’d acted… It made Peter think that maybe he’d at least want to make a habit of having sex with him.

Which he would be totally cool with, even if he wasn’t the only one Wade was fucking. Or being fucked by. Whichever.

Peter huffed to himself, the air coming out in a thick cloud in the winter air. He hunched his shoulders up and cast a wary glance around as he tucked himself further into his old coat. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but he was disappointed when he didn’t catch sight of Wade at all, just like he’d been disappointed the last hundred times he’d looked.

He sped his steps and trudged into an alley, hands shoved deep in his pockets. Anyone around him would likely think he was just protecting them from the cold. That was fine. They didn’t need to know that his right hand was wrapped tightly around the grip of his favorite pistol in his pocket. They didn’t need to know that he was working right now.

At the end of the alley was a metal door. It was an out of the way dive, hard to find and harder to get into… Unless you knew someone.

And Peter knew someone.

He didn’t even have to knock - the door opened and he shrugged past the doorman. They exchanged brief greetings before Peter slunk further into the place. He’d done work here before. Hell, he’d come here for  _ fun _ before… But mostly he came here for jobs, which still kind of counted as fun, considering the hype being on a job gave him.

Across the room he saw his mark. Some unlucky bastard who’d made one of Peter’s higher paying customers very unhappy with him. Edgar Howe. He was a little older than Peter, and he owed some major money to his boss. His boss who he didn’t seem to realize had a habit of putting out hits on people who owed him money. Specifically folks who had  _ stolen _ the money that they owed him in the first place.

And he tended to turn to Peter for that sort of thing.

So this was all the better for Peter, really, but unfortunate for poor Mr. Howe.

“Edgar!” He greeted upon getting close enough to speak over the trashy music playing through the speakers. Better music played at night, but the sun was still in the sky… For now. Only ten more minutes until the sun sank under the horizon.

Edgar jumped at his greeting, backing up against the wall. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Name’s Peter.” He grinned at him, offering his gloved right hand. “Peter Parker.”

The man eyed his hand and the black fingerless glove covering it for a moment before hesitantly taking the hand and shaking it. “How do you know who I am?”

“Friend of your boss.” Peter informed him, and part of him thrilled at the way the color drained from Edgar’s face. “Why don’t we talk a while?”

Edgar’s teeth clenched, but it seemed he knew he had no choice, so he nodded. “Okay. Fine. Where are we talking?”

“Oh, I know just the place.” Peter grinned, motioning toward the back exit to the bar a few feet away. It led out into another alley. One only accessible from the rooftops or through the exits of the buildings on either side of it. The building on the other side was vacant and there were rarely people out in the alley. Made both pretty good places to set up shop when he was looking for work.

Edgar reluctantly exited in front of him. He paled further in the growing darkness when he realized the only exits from this alley were the door behind him and the one across from it. However, he seemed to think that door would be locked, and he was smart enough to know that Peter would be staying between him and the one leading back into the bar.

He looked terrified, and it made Peter feel  _ powerful. _

“Now, Edgar, I do hate doing things like this,” He began, cocking his head to the side with a smile, “But your boss… He’s offered me a lot of money to get you out of the way and get back the money you owe him.”

“He’s willing to waste money to try to get mine?” Edgar asked in disbelief.

“Seems that way.” Peter laughed. “Not that I care, of course - payment is payment. Don’t care what I’m doing to get it.”

Edgar tensed, whole body prepared to bolt. “So by get me out of the way, you mean…?”

“Killing you.”

Edgar’s whole body flinched. “I was afraid you’d say that.”

“You should be.” Peter snorted. “Now, we can do this quick, clean, and easy, or drawn out and messy.” He stepped toward him, “Which is it gonna be?”

Edgar struggled for words. Peter laughed. Edgar clamped his mouth shut and looked away. “Can’t I just tell you where I stashed the money and you let me live?”

“Sure.” Peter lied with a shrug. “We could definitely do that.”

The words made the man relax. “Okay. Okay. I put it all in a safety deposit box at the bank. I can give you the key - I was planning on giving it to someone else so I told the bankers that anybody who came in with the key was welcome to the box.”

Peter smiled and held out a hand expectantly. Edgar relaxed further and dug into his own coat, withdrawing the key and dropping it into Peter’s open hand. Peter’s smile widened as Edgar closed his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief.

He had his gun cocked and against the man’s forehead before he even managed to draw in a full breath. Edgar’s eyes snapped open, mouth opening to question what was happening, and then the sound of his pistol firing briefly deafened Peter. Blood spattered back onto his hand, his sleeve, his face. He laughed as Edgar’s body dropped to the ground, lifeless.

It felt good to be on a job again. It felt good to finally kill someone again after a month. This was the first job he’d had the whole time. Short and sweet, yes, but exhilarating. He stuffed his gun back into his pocket and ignored the sound of the bar door opening behind him in favor of ducking down to grab Edgar’s arms and drag him toward the other building.

He stopped dead halfway across when he heard Wade’s voice. “Damn, Petey. Every time I see you lately you’re killin’ somebody.”

He stared at the legs he could see for a moment before slowly lifting his gaze to Wade’s face. He was suited up, as usual, though he was wearing a coat over the suit.

“Not my fault you only ever fucking show up when I’m on the job.” Peter bit back, unamused.

He resumed pulling Edgar toward the other building.

Wade strode over to him and Peter had no chance to question what he was doing before a gloved hand was wrapped around his throat and he found himself being yanked up and thrown at the wall behind him. He stumbled into it, eyes moving to Deadpool, whose expression was unreadable under the mask.

“Wade, what the  _ fuck-” _

Deadpool was right in front of him all of a sudden, hand around his throat again. He pushed him hard against the wall and squeezed warningly.

Despite the very real threat of Deadpool killing him, Peter’s dick twitched with interest at the prospect of being strangled. He tried to ignore it in favor of staring at Deadpool through the growing darkness. He swallowed beneath the firm hand on his throat.

“Now, now, baby boy,” Deadpool told him in a rather condescending tone, “There’s no need to get so hostile.”

Peter felt his lips turn downward in a very unflattering way, teeth clenching. “I’m not the one making very thinly veiled death threats here, Wade.” He pointed out through his clenched teeth. “I don’t think  _ I’m _ the one being hostile.”

“I disagree.” Deadpool said, and this time the clenching of his hand around Peter’s neck was not in warning. It was purposeful and did not let up after the first second. “I was trying to be friendly and you got all snippy with me.”

Peter resisted the instinct telling him to moan  _ and _ the instinct telling him to fight back. He stayed stock still and glared. The moment Deadpool decreased the pressure on his neck he growled out, “You disappeared for a month and then showed up acting like it never happened. Of  _ course _ I got snippy you dense mother-”

Deadpool cut him off by squeezing again, much tighter this time. Peter’s whole body trembled, hands shooting up to grab hold of Deadpool’s arm before he could stop them.

“You say that like you  _ missed _ me or something.” Wade teased darkly.

He released the pressure on Peter’s neck just as Peter’s body started to tell him he needed air.

Peter couldn’t help sneering, “Don’t you know you’re supposed to call a lady after you show her a good time?”

To his complete shock, the sass earned him a very firm backhand from Deadpool’s unoccupied hand. His head turned to the side and hit the wall behind him. He damn near whimpered in fear when the hand around his neck twitched warningly. But he held it in and slowly turned his face back so he could look at Deadpool. He was sure his whole cheek would be purple later.

He no longer cared about relocating the body of his last victim. He just wanted to get out of here. He made sure not to let the very,  _ very _ real fear show on his face or in his eyes when he made what he assumed to be direct eye contact. He just stared the man down for just long enough to make Deadpool loosen his grip slightly more, and then-

**_SNAP!_ **

He used his grip on Deadpool’s forearm to snap it in half between his hands. Before Deadpool could retaliate to that, he acquainted his knee with the man’s groin, then his elbow with his face. Another sickening crack and he knew he’d used a little more strength than he intended with the elbow. That had either been the sound of Wade’s  _ jaw _ or Wade’s  _ neck. _

He didn’t stick around to figure out which one it was. He just shoved the man away as hard as he could manage, shot a web up toward the top of the bar’s building, and flung himself out of there as quickly as he could manage. It occurred to him as he swung his way home in the most roundabout way he could just to keep Wade from following him that he could have shot him. He could have shot him and guaranteed he’d be down a few minutes longer.

Oh well. Too late for that anyway.

He slung himself into his apartment via his bedroom window and slammed it shut behind him. Being bulletproof, the glass merely quivered instead of cracking as it would have if it had been normal glass. He locked it, drew the curtains, and retreated toward his connected bathroom, but only after venturing out to lock all the other doors in the apartment. The window in there was just big enough for him to escape from if need be, but not big enough for Wade to fit through.

He checked to be sure Wade was not already in there before he closed and locked the door and hunkered down in the bathtub. He did not turn on the bathroom light. He just sat in the darkness and tried to breathe quietly like he’d trained himself to.

It was an hour before he heard his front door get kicked open.

Against his will, he whimpered at the sound.

He wasn’t scared of Wade. He  _ wasn’t. _

… Okay. Yeah. He was. He was fucking terrified of Wade. And Wade, for whatever reason, was in a rather murderous mood today, and he likely hadn’t made it any better by fighting back the way he had.

“Petey!” He heard Wade call.

He swallowed down the whimper that tried to escape this time.

“C’mon Petey, I just wanna  _ talk!” _

_ Yeah, sure. _ Peter thought somewhat bitterly.  _ You wanna talk about gutting me, right? _

“You’re just making this worse for yourself by  _ hiding, _ Peter.” Wade’s voice was dark and dangerous once more.

_ No shit. _

He carefully stood and climbed up the shower wall to the window that would provide his escape. He opened it. It didn’t make a sound. He started to squeeze himself out through it.

His bedroom door was kicked open.

He scrambled the rest of the way out without a care for how loud he was being, and the five second free-fall before he webbed himself to a building across the street was  _ terrifying. _ But he was still alive. And, honestly, he’d rather fall to his death than let Wade get his hands on him right now.

God, he couldn’t believe he’d been upset about being away from this maniac.

He was still swinging his way out of view of his apartment when he heard a gun go off. He felt the bullet tear through his calf and he very nearly let go of his web in surprise. The pain hit him a second afterward.

He swung his way as quick as he could halfway across the city, frequently checking to see if Wade was behind him.

Finally he dropped into an alley. It wasn’t his best plan, but he knew where he could hide for now. He limped to the dumpster and climbed inside, closing it quietly. Even if Wade had seen him drop down to this alley, he’d never think to look in the dumpster. Peter wasn’t the kind of guy who’d stoop that low, normally. Dumpsters were disgusting. He wouldn’t be caught dead hiding in one if he could avoid it. Not to mention, this alley connected to about three others, so he had plenty of escape routes. Wade had no way of knowing he’d actually been hit, so he had no way of knowing Peter wouldn’t be running anywhere for a while.

Speaking of being  _ hit, _ however… He examined the wound in his calf the best he could in the darkness. It was bleeding profusely, to his chagrin, but he was pretty sure it wasn’t enough that he’d left a trail to the dumpster. He took a deep breath, as silent as was currently possible, clamped his hands over the wound tightly, and let it out slowly.

Footsteps outside the dumpster.

The next breath he took, he held.

“Where the fuck’d he go this time?” He heard Wade growl. “Little fucker… Why can’t he just stay in one spot and let me show him how much I  _ missed _ him?”

He had to bite down on his lip to keep from whimpering.

“He’s not  _ scared _ of me, so I don’t see why he’s  _ running.” _

_ Haha. Yeah. Totally not scared of you, here, Wade. _

“Maybe he just wants to play hard to get?”

_ Yeah. Sure. _

“I’m not in the mood for games, though.” Wade sighed, clearly annoyed. “Probably should have told him that.”

Wade was right next to the dumpster, he could tell. Less than three or four feet. His Spidey-sense was going crazy. He might  _ die _ tonight, all because he’d gotten a little snippy with a guy who usually  _ didn’t _ threaten his life.

“What the…” Wade’s voice took on a slightly alarmed tone. “Blood?”

Peter almost cursed out loud. He’d been wrong. He’d left a blood trail. His leg was bleeding way too much. He just kept holding his breath and listened to the sounds of Wade walking closer his hiding place.

They stalled a foot or so away. “Wait, who am I kidding? Petey wouldn’t hide in a dumpster, even if I managed to clip him earlier.” He laughed. “Probably some crazy bum.”

Peter waited until his footsteps completely faded away before he even  _ slightly _ popped open the lid of the dumpster. No sign of Wade in either direction. He breathed a soft sigh of relief and, against his better judgement, shoved his pant leg up and webbed his wound closed. The webbing turned red very quickly, but the blood didn’t seep through.

He pushed the pant leg back down and quietly exited the dumpster. He didn’t leave the alley in the same direction Wade did, because he wasn’t trying to run into him. He was trying to get away. He headed, instead, the way Wade had come from. He shoved his blood soaked gloves into his pockets, wiped his hands on his pants, and pulled the hood of his coat up. He never wore the hood up. It obscured his vision too much.

… It was a very bad idea, probably worse than the dumpster thing, but he decided to head back to his apartment. The old-fashioned way. Because Wade could look up at any point and potentially see him webbing his way back.

So he walked even though his leg vehemently protested.

He did not encounter Wade for the whole walk.

He left his apartment door wide open, as it already was, and retired quietly to his spare bedroom after jimmying the lock. He locked it back once he was inside, limped over to the closet, and curled up in there. Wade wouldn’t think he was stupid enough to come back here so soon, he was sure of it.

But just to be safe, he’d left everything as it was before he came back. That was why he even re-locked the door to this room. He was certain Wade had tried the door when he looked earlier.

In the darkness of the closed closet, he used his phone light to re-examine his wounded leg. The webbing was disintegrating already, so he ripped the remains off and re-webbed it. He’d almost certainly need to go to the hospital for this, but how was he going to explain it?

‘I was just taking a nice leisurely stroll around town and then somebody just  _ shot _ me,’ seemed fake even if he  _ was _ in New York City, where the story was entirely possible. Then there was the issue of having to file a police report if he did that, and constantly being brought in to look at suspects for it, and… Yeah, it just wasn’t worth it. He’d find some other way to get it to heal up properly.

Thankfully, Wade had missed the bones when he shot him, so it was only a matter of getting the muscles and the skin to heal. It… Shouldn’t take  _ that _ long, especially not considering he had a healing factor of his own, though it wasn’t near as powerful as Wade’s.

He sat there for a long time before sighing, taking off his coat, and rolling it up to use as a pillow. He curled up right there in the closet and fell asleep.

At some much later point in the night, he woke to the sound of someone jimmying the lock on the door.

He responded not with fear, but by silently removing himself and his coat from the closet and curling back up in the room proper, next to the window so it’d look like he’d climbed in, closed the window and curtains, and gone to sleep right there.. Sure, it was probably Wade, and Wade was probably pissed, but Peter just couldn’t find it in himself to care right at the moment.

If Wade killed him right now, then at least he’d managed to get some sleep before it happened.

The door popped open, and it took everything Peter had (despite his resignation to the inevitable) to pretend to be asleep. He could feel that his leg had already soaked a pool of blood into the carpet beneath it. Moving hadn’t been his greatest idea, but at least this way it didn’t look like he was actually  _ hiding. _ More like he’d been tired and just wanted a brief reprieve from the chase.

“Petey~” Wade’s voice was soft, and not near as angry as it had been however many hours earlier.

He didn’t respond, continuing to pretend he was asleep. He was usually a pretty light sleeper, but maybe Wade could be convinced he slept deeper when he was tired enough. As far as Wade knew, he’d probably been out running around for most of the day and then a good deal of the night, too.

Wade’s footsteps approached, and he both felt and heard the other man kneel down behind him. A warm, gloved hand landed on his head. He hummed and shifted his head slightly, like he was nuzzling into the touch, too tired to realize who was touching him.

“Petey,” Wade repeated in that soft, sing-song voice, petting his head. “Wake up, baby boy.”

Peter forced a tired groan as he turned his head toward the voice so the back of his head was on the floor.

“C’mon,” Wade coaxed.

He started to turn onto his back, only to hiss in pain very genuinely and furrow his brow. His eyes fluttered open and he looked up at Wade, and despite his best attempts he couldn’t keep the hopeless look of, “oh, fuck” off of his face. Through the shadows he saw Wade arch an eyebrow beneath his mask.

“Great.” Peter said sarcastically, and even though he cringed at the tremor of fear in his voice he didn’t bother dwelling on it. “You caught me.” Against his better judgement he turned back onto his side with another genuine hiss of pain. “Get it over with, then.”

Wade didn’t reply.

“Seriously?” Peter asked, voice weak. “You chase me all around the fucking city, you shoot me in the leg, and now that you’ve caught me you’re hesitating?”

“I… Actually shot you?”

“In the leg.” Peter confirmed, feeling some irritation bubble up. That was good. Irritation meant he wasn’t giving up just yet. Irritation meant he’d just been too tired to care before.

“Let me look.” Wade ordered.

Peter scoffed before he could even consider stopping himself. “What, so you can rub salt in it or something? No thanks.”

Wade’s hand on his head tightened in his hair and yanked his head back so he was forced to look at him. Peter’s heart rate picked up immediately, eyes wide. Oh, hello, panic. Nice to see you. It’s been a while. How ya been?

After a second of eye contact, Wade slowly loosened his grip in his hair.

“Jesus.” He said, and he almost sounded sad. “You’re… Actually scared of me, aren’t you?”

“Just a little.” Peter managed to say, if somewhat hoarsely. “I mean you did kind of strangle me, backhand me, shoot me, and chase me around the city for, you know, being my usual salty self.”

“If you would have just  _ held still-” _

“If I would have just held still you would have strangled me to death!” Peter sat up and, despite his leg’s protests, scrambled backwards away from the masked man, “Or snapped my neck. Or  _ shot me.” _

Yep, that was  _ definitely _ panic he was feeling. It only increased when Deadpool growled and approached, Peter’s Spidey-sense urging him to run. Take the threat out. Do  _ something. _

But he stayed still even though his heart was hammering in his chest and his breath was coming in ragged gasps.

He was picked up by the throat and carried to the nearest wall. His neck strained at being held off the ground that way. His hands latched onto Deadpool’s arm once more, but this time he was more worried about keeping Deadpool from snapping his neck like this than he was about straight up prying the man’s hand away from his throat. Being dropped right now would only hinder him further, anyway.

Deadpool allowed the clinging until he was pressed against the wall, but then he growled out warningly, “Let go or I’ll snap your neck.”

He whimpered weakly, but obeyed. Deadpool rewarded him by sliding him far enough down the wall the he could stand on his good leg instead of dangling there.

His voice was much calmer, much closer to its normal tone this time. “Peter, I wasn’t going to strangle you to death earlier.” He said. “I wasn’t going to snap your neck. Or shoot you. I shouldn’t have hit you, but I got carried away. If you would have let on that you were scared I would have stopped. The last thing I want to do is scare you.”

“But it’s still on the list.” Peter mumbled rather crossly.

Deadpool either ignored that statement or just chose not to respond to it. “I guess I should have taken the hint when you broke  _ my _ neck that you were scared.”

Peter winced. So it  _ had _ been his neck. “Probably, yeah.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“Christ, Wade, who the hell do you think I am?” Peter groused, “I don’t just tell people that I’m scared.” There was only a second’s pause before he continued, “And why the hell wouldn’t I be scared?! I might be a murderous bastard myself but you’re not exactly known for your mercy once you have someone by the throat in an alley!”

He didn’t realize that he was shaking, that he was  _ crying, _ until the hand around his throat left and was being used to gently wipe the tears from his cheeks. And then he was being shushed, quiet and patient. He flinched slightly from the contact to his bruised right cheek, but let Wade attend to him without verbal complaint.

“There any chance I can get you to cry from pleasure instead?” Wade asked very softly, and Peter wasn’t sure if he was joking or not, but he laughed quietly anyway.

Wade seemed to relax a bit.

“Maybe once my leg heals up,” Peter told him, voice still choked from crying.

“Let me look,” Wade said again.

“Carry me to the bathroom?” Peter requested.

Wade pressed closer to him and grabbed him by the backs of his thighs. Peter pushed himself further up the wall with his hands, and Wade pulled his legs over his hips. Peter locked his uninjured right leg around Wade’s waist, but let the other hang limp. Wade pressed closer again, chest to chest with him, and Peter wrapped his arms around his neck.

Wade pulled them away from the wall and exited the room, carefully taking him to the main bathroom in the apartment. It was the only room Peter hadn’t locked in his mad dash to secure the place. He was grateful for that, now, because picking the lock would take far too long right now.

He was set carefully on the edge of the tub before Wade moved away to turn on the light.

While he did that, Peter rolled up his pant leg once more, wincing at the wound. Usually gore didn’t bother him, but on his own body it tended to be a bigger issue. He loved hurting other people. Didn’t so much love being hurt.

… Not this badly at least.

Wade knelt down to examine it, and he winced just like Peter had. And, as a guy who’d had considerably more bullet wounds than Peter ever had, Peter wasn’t surprised. If anyone knew how much it stung, it was Wade. Not that it really hurt all that much  _ now, _ but that was just because his leg was going numb, not because he had some sort of magically high pain tolerance.

Wade sighed, carefully prodding at the wound. Peter didn’t question the noise. He only flinched slightly at the touch. Wade sighed again. “Dammit.” He finally said, “I’m sorry, baby boy.”

Peter blinked down at him.

Wade continued without prompting, “I admit I  _ probably _ should have just stayed away from you today. I’m pretty much never in my right mind but I was even further from it earlier.” He was quiet for a moment. Peter wasn’t sure what, if anything at all, to say. “I’m sorry.” Wade repeated.

Peter wetted his lips with his tongue. “I’m probably going to sound like an idiot,” He said carefully, making Wade look up at him, “But I forgive you.”

He could tell when he was being blinked at. It made him chuckle weakly. One of Wade’s hands landed on his knee and gently squeezed.

“You do?”

“Yeah.”

Wade let out a shaky breath and rested his head against the knee he was holding. He took a deep breath. He gently massaged Peter’s lower thigh, just above his knee. Peter hummed softly - that was a nice contrast to the pain in his other leg. It would have felt nice even without that contrast, though, of course.

“You’re too good for me, baby boy.” Wade finally said. “Holy  _ shit, _ you’re too good for me.”

“I disagree.” Peter hesitated, then rested a hand on Wade’s head carefully. “I’m just showing you common human courtesy.”

“I don’t get that very often.” Wade informed him, leaning into his hand. “Most people like to act like I’m not a person.”

“Most people are fucking idiots.” Peter replied flippantly.

Wade laughed. “And this is why I couldn’t stay away from you today.”

“What? My absolutely stunning personality? My disdain for other people?”

“Yes.” Wade said, unhelpfully.

He pushed up the bottom of his mask, and when Peter saw that he was smiling he couldn’t help smiling back. Wade’s smile only widened. He nuzzled against Peter’s knee, which kind of tickled. Peter laughed quietly.

“I can heal up your leg,” Wade offered after a moment, “The method’s kinda gross but that probably sounds absolutely  _ rich _ coming from me.”

Peter tried not to snicker. “Yeah. What is it, though?”

“Well, I mean, my healing factor’s pretty volatile. If I smeared some of my blood into the wound…” He trailed.

Peter didn’t think at all before shrugging and saying, “Go for it.”

He stared at the opposite wall while Wade sat back up a little straighter. He cringed slightly at the sound of Wade unsheathing one of his knives. He cringed even harder at the feeling of Wade’s finger poking into his leg. Into the wound. He held back the urge to gag at the feeling, pushed down the rolling of his stomach, and waited it out.

He looked down when Wade pulled his hand away and watched with vaguely morbid fascination as the wound sealed up pretty much immediately.

“You’re lookin’ a little green, baby boy.” Wade informed him.

“My guts weren’t fond of the feeling of someone’s finger in my leg.” Peter brushed it off like it didn’t matter. “... Thanks, though.”

“You… You’re welcome.” Wade sighed. “I’m the one who did it in the first place, though, so why are you thanking me for trying to be a decent person by fixing my mistake?”

“Well you already apologized for it and you’re trying to be a decent person, so… Is there a reason I  _ shouldn’t _ be thanking you for trying to be a decent person?”

Wade seemed to consider that. “Maybe because I had ulterior motives?”

“Oh?” Peter quirked a brow, “Do enlighten me.”

Without warning, Wade shoved his legs further open, scooting in between them and gripping his hips. He yanked him by the hips to the very edge of the tub ledge.

“You remember what you said before I carried you in here?”

Peter’s brain scrambled for a second before he caught what he meant. His cheeks turned red almost instantaneously. Teeth clamped down on the inside of his lip for a second, “I didn’t think it sounded like you were joking.” He finally said kind of weakly.

“Oh, baby boy, I wasn’t.” Wade growled in reply.

Peter shivered. Wade didn’t start in on him immediately - gave him time to calm down and then some. He waited, hands tense, arms and torso keeping his legs open around the older male. And then Peter realized that Wade was waiting for consent. For  _ permission. _

“Okay,” He said hoarsely, “Go for it.”

Wade’s hands were at the button on his pants in an instant, popping it open and sliding his zipper down. Fingers hooked into the waistband of his boxers and pants. He lifted his hips and Wade had the material down around his legs much like the last time. But this time it wasn’t his hand that wrapped around Peter’s increasingly interested dick.

It was his  _ mouth _ .

Peter moaned softly and struggled to keep his hips still despite being under no orders to do so. Wade seemed to appreciate it, nonetheless, sinking down to take all of him. He swallowed around him and Peter almost squeaked. God, he hadn’t gotten head from someone who could deepthroat in  _ years. _ It was like a forgotten art.

Not that he got a lot of head anyway, these days, but still.

Wade moaned around him, sucking hard as he pulled back up. He swirled his tongue around the head before dipping back down. He bobbed his head carefully - he didn’t have much of a gag reflex, but that didn’t mean he wanted to chance anything. Peter moaned, legs tensing around Wade’s shoulders. Wade hummed. Peter’s hips hitched.

Wade pulled off of him and, after discarding his gloves, wrapped a hand around the hardness still in front of his face. He stroked it languidly and looked up to Peter’s face.

His cheeks were red and heated (though the right one was more of a red-violet due to the large bruise), eyes lidded and mouth slightly open, but he met Wade’s gaze unabashedly. His hips hitched again, though more purposely this time. That was kind of cute - Peter had been trying not to choke him, before.

“What do you think it’s gonna take for me to be able to make you cry?” Wade rumbled quietly.

Peter closed his mouth for a second, swallowing hard, then wetted his lips with his tongue. “Dunno.” He said, “You got me pretty close last time.” He hesitated slightly, swallowing down a moan, then said, “Especially once you got me overstimulated.”

Wade hummed and licked at the head of his cock, continuing to stroke. “Think edging you might work?”

“It’s possible.” Peter gasped.

It finally occurred to him that Wade wanting to see him cry from pleasure was… Pretty kinky. Also not something he’d ever thought he’d be agreeing to. He hated crying. But Wade had asked, he’d said okay, and he was sure that if he changed his mind he could tell him and it’d be fine. Wade was a lot of things (including a chronic flirt and the kind of guy who’d pin you to a wall and kiss your neck without asking), but he wasn’t a rapist. If you told him to stop, he’d stop. No questions asked. Peter knew that from prior experience - he’d groped him mid-fight and when Peter had told him to stop so he could concentrate he’d backed off immediately.

And, sure, groping him in the first place, pinning him to the wall and attacking his neck without permission, didn’t seem to fit with that, but they’d both been running on nerves in both situations and Peter had done some not-so-great things himself while running on nerves. He didn’t see why he should hold either thing against Wade when he knew that if he’d expressed any desire to stop in the warehouse Wade would have gone along with it, and he  _ had _ gone along with that desire in the other situation.

He lost his train of thought when Wade’s mouth closed back over the head of his dick. That was okay.

Wade returned to bobbing his head, hand moving to cup his balls and carefully roll them. Peter’s legs tensed around him again, a gasp and moan escaping his mouth.

Wade continued that way for a few moments, relishing in every tremor and sound that escaped the younger male. When his sounds began to get a little more hoarse, he pulled off his cock with a pop and moved his hand back up to squeeze the base to prevent him from cumming. Peter gave an only vaguely displeased noise, but didn’t actually protest, so Wade took that as the go-ahead to continue.

He swirled his tongue around the head of Peter’s cock, keeping a firm grip on the base, and then went back down on him. Peter’s moans very quickly turned to desperate little groans and mewls, hips twitching slightly. Wade got him to the very threshold of orgasm… And then pulled off, earning him a weak whine.

He chuckled, waiting a moment, and removed his hand from the base of Peter’s cock. He finally returned that hand to his hip, though he’d been holding the opposite hip the whole time. He began to rub gentle circles above Peter’s hip bones, pressing soft kisses to the insides of his thighs. He made no move to start in on him again, yet, because part of him wanted to see what Peter would do if he didn’t go back to touching him.

Peter’s hands were clenched on the edge of the tub beside him, arms quivering with restraint. Wade smiled against his thigh.

“Good boy,” He praised, nipping him gently.

Peter gave a whine, cock twitching at the praise, but he continued to keep his hands exactly where they were. He didn’t try to touch himself. Wade was so proud of him - he didn’t even need to be told he wasn’t allowed to. He’d just made an assumption, most likely, but he’d assumed correctly.

“So good for me,” Wade pulled his mouth away from his thigh and looked up at him, squeezing at his hips, “You wanna cum so bad, don’t you, baby boy?” Peter nodded with a whimper, his pretty eyes rimmed slightly with tears, and Wade damn near came right there. “Maybe if you  _ beg, _ I’ll let you come.” He said, instead. “You’re so cute when you beg, after all.”

He kissed the tip of Peter’s dick just to make sure he stayed interested, then gave it a couple small kitten licks.

Peter swallowed his pride within a couple of seconds and meekly said, “Please, Wade, let me cum.”

Wade gave a noncommittal hum and kissed carefully down the side of his length. The message was clear even without words. That wasn’t good enough. He needed to try harder.

“Please, I want it so bad.” He closed his eyes, and he was pretty sure he was blushing right down to his chest, “I want you to make me cum, please.”

Wade mentally thanked whatever gods existed for his self-control and ability to not cream his pants like a teenager at the tone of Peter’s voice when he begged. Out loud, he hummed again and pulled away. He got to his feet and tried not to laugh when Peter’s eyes snapped open to look at him. He had to try even harder when he heard Peter whimper when he turned around.

“Stay.” He ordered over his shoulder. “I’ll be right back.”

It was more a test than anything, but he’d also just remembered he’d left the front door open. It likely wouldn’t stay shut after how hard he’d kicked it to get it open earlier, but he could at least shut it and push something in front of it to keep it that way. At the very least it gave him something to do while he wasted time to see if Peter would obey him or not.

A couple minutes later the front door was closed and latched the best it could be, with a chair up against it making sure it stayed that way.

He returned to the bathroom and was pleased to find Peter exactly as he’d left him, hands still holding tight to the edge of the tub, cock swollen and stiff, and expression caught somewhere between scared and pleading. The whine that escaped Peter when their eyes met through his mask was clearly not a conscious choice, and part of him felt bad for leaving him like this.

“Aw, what’s wrong, baby boy?” Wade asked as he knelt back down between his legs, nuzzling slightly against the leaking member in front of him, “Did you think I was just going to leave you like this?”

“I wouldn’t put it past you.” Peter grumbled, but he didn’t sound as angry as he probably wanted to.

Wade couldn’t help chuckling. He licked at his cock again, lapping up the precome beading at the head, and Peter’s protests about his laughter melted away instantaneously. He wrapped his lips around the tip and gave a strong suck, making Peter buck his hips slightly, and then backed off again.

“Wade,” Peter whined.

“I did say  _ maybe, _ didn’t I?” Wade reminded him, looking up at his face to gauge his reaction.

Peter blinked at him, “Oh you’re cruel.” He said plainly, though he didn’t sound too happy about it and he looked about a second away from pouting.

He laughed again. “Kidding, baby boy.” He assured him, “But you gotta beg some more.”

And now Peter was pouting at him.  _ God, _ it was cute. And it was starting to become obvious that Peter doing things that were cute really did it for him.

_ “Please, _ Wade?” Peter pleaded, still pouting.

Holy shit, he was going to  _ die _ if Peter kept begging like that. With that little pout. That meek and desperate voice. It was too much.

He shuddered. “Okay, baby boy.” He said, “You can cum.”

He wrapped a hand back around his base, beginning to stroke, and then wrapped his mouth around the head and sucked. Peter whimpered and bucked his hips slightly and with one, two, three more strokes he came with a weak little shout that made Wade’s cock throb with want.

He looked up at him.

He still wasn’t crying, though he looked like he was only a few seconds away from it. Wade decided that just meant he’d have to keep trying - provided Peter let him, of course. He swallowed down his release, making sure to get everything he currently had to offer, then pulled off and smiled up at him.

“You’re not crying yet.” He pointed out.

Peter gave a weak smile. “Feel free to keep trying. Now’s as good a time as any.”

Wade chuckled and kissed his softening cock. “Fair point.” He grabbed his hips again as he started to straighten up, pulling Peter flush against him. “Can I fuck you, baby boy?”

Peter trembled at the question.  _ “Yes.” _ He agreed, arms wrapping around Wade’s neck and hands squeezing at his shoulders.

Wade grinned. He carried him off to the bedroom, glancing at the door on his way. He’d done a number on that one too… Looked like he’d need to pay for new ones. No way he was making Peter do that himself when this wasn’t technically even his fault.

He dropped him onto the bed and divested him of his shoes, pants, and boxers entirely, and Peter, to his credit,  _ did _ try to help. Mostly he had to settle for lifting his hips and clinging to Wade’s shoulders, though. Kinda cute, really.

“Can…” He hesitated for a moment, because it felt a little weird to be asking, but then he continued, “Can I take off your hoodie, too?”

“You just want to see me naked.” Peter groused playfully, letting go of him and taking it off himself. He tossed it, his shirt, and his web shooters to the side and met Wade’s eyes. “Seems unfair, though.”

“I promise you don’t want to see what’s going on under here.” Wade sighed, averting his gaze slightly.

“I’d tell you to blindfold me, then, but you wanna see me crying so that’s not an option.” Peter seemed to accept his argument, however, lying back on the bed. “Speaking of…”

“Maybe next time,” Wade said, in reference to the blindfold comment of course, then grinned. “You want my cock in you that bad, huh?”

Peter bit his lip in an attempt to hold back the whine the question brought, but he only succeeded in looking cute as fuck when the noise left him. “Yes,” He answered meekly.

His dick was already hardening again. Wade thought that was even cuter.

He finally,  _ finally _ unzipped the zipper in his suit and released his own achingly hard cock, sighing in relief now that it wasn’t straining against the material of his suit. He watched Peter’s eyes focus in on it, though. Watched him wet his lips with his tongue before biting down on his bottom lip and then looking back up at his face.

“Almost looks like you wanna return the favor, baby boy.” Wade chuckled darkly.

Almost against his will, Peter’s teeth released his bottom lip, mouth falling open slightly. Wade smirked.

“You can only touch if you prep yourself for me.” He told him, “Can you do that for me, baby boy?”

Peter nodded, sitting up so he’d be able to maneuver alright and be able to get his mouth on Wade.

“Lube?” Wade asked.

“Bedside table.” Peter responded automatically.

Wade snagged it and handed it to him before moving within range of his mouth. Peter focused, for the moment, on lubing up his fingers. Then he carefully maneuvered to press a finger inside himself, giving a soft moan. He was still very sensitive, sure, but that was kind of the point here. It felt nice, in-context. He usually wouldn’t want to deal with it just because he usually didn’t feel like making himself uncomfortable or making himself cry.

Crying was kind of the goal here, though.

He looked up at Wade and opened his mouth once he had the finger in as far as he could currently get it. Wade took the invitation and slowly slid his cock into the younger male’s mouth, careful not to gag him. Peter moaned both from the feeling of Wade’s cock in his mouth and the feeling of his own finger starting to move.

He sucked on him carefully, but didn’t move his head, hoping Wade would get the message. After only a couple of seconds, Wade  _ did _ get it. His hand threaded into Peter’s hair and pulled him back slowly, then pushed him back down to where he’d been before. Peter did his very best to relax his throat and take everything Wade was giving him. He pressed a second finger into himself and moaned around the dick that was currently fucking his mouth nice and slow.

“Such a sweet, good boy.” Wade praised him, “Take my cock so well.”

Peter moaned again, body already shaking from the overstimulation. He shoved a third finger into himself before he was entirely ready, but the pain wasn’t enough to deter him. He sucked on Wade a tad more desperately than he was willing to admit to being.

“Fuck, baby boy. You keep going like that and I might have to paint your cute little face white.”

He whimpered, because that sounded  _ hot, _ but it also would mean not getting fucked yet, and that was practically a crime right now.

Oh, great, now he was overstimulated  _ and _ cock-hungry.

He angled his hand a little differently and cried out in slight surprise when he brushed his prostate. Oh, that was  _ too _ good right now. He felt pleasured tears pricking at his eyes again.

Close,  _ so _ close to giving Wade what he wanted. He brushed his prostate again with a whimper, feeling the tears well up further. He opened his eyes to look up at Wade when he did it again, abdomen tensing.

Wade groaned. “Fuck, baby boy. Please tell me you’re ready for me.”

His grip on Peter’s hair was loose enough that Peter could pull off, so that was what he did, although somewhat reluctantly. “I’m ready.” No going back now - he made sure to pout at him slightly after he removed his fingers from himself, “Please fuck me with your big thick cock. Make me  _ cry.” _

The next thing he knew, he was on his back and Wade was pressing into him while he mouthed at his neck. He moaned wantonly and tipped his head back further to give Wade more room. Clung to his shoulders. The older male pressed in all the way to the hilt without hesitation, sucking a hickey into Peter’s neck. He gave Peter only a moment or two to adjust before he began to thrust.

He was not as gentle as he’d been the last time, but Peter didn’t seem to mind the brutal pace and hard thrusts. He pushed himself away from his throat after a moment to watch his face. Peter met his gaze, blushing right down to the middle of his chest but not afraid to maintain eye contact. Tears blurred Peter’s vision and then, when Wade angled his hips just so, spilled over as he cried out the older’s name weakly, squeezing his eyes shut.

Wade twitched inside of him at the sight, at the sound, at the feeling of him clamping down around him. Peter hiccuped slightly at the twitch. This was even hotter than Wade had been expecting.

“You good?” He asked, regardless, hands gentle on Peter’s hips as he kept moving.

Peter nodded, removing one hand from his grip on Wade’s shoulders to scrub at his eyes with a small chuckle. “I’m fine. Take it you really enjoy this?”

Wade grinned at him. “Seeing you crying just from me teasing you and then shoving my cock in you is hot. Especially knowing that you’re enjoying it, too.”

Peter grinned back weakly, only to sob when Wade angled his hips to brush his prostate once more. He cursed and let his head fall backward. “I wasn’t expecting to like this as much as I do.” He informed him between moans and the occasional hiccup or sob.

Wade chuckled and merely kept thrusting, aiming directly for his prostate. Peter’s noises got louder and louder, whether they were moans or sobs, only to cut off abruptly as Peter clamped his mouth shut for a second and shuddered.

“W-wade, I- I’m close,  _ please.” _

Peter squirmed slightly beneath him, muscles tensing. His watery eyes were pleading, bottom lip bright red and quickly swelling from how hard Peter was biting it. He’d almost broken skin.

“Go on,” Wade coaxed when he realized that Peter was asking him for permission, wrapping his hand around his dick. “Cum for me. But you better  _ thank _ me when you do, baby boy.”

It was a stretch, but he’d gotten Peter to follow plenty of other orders before. He could probably manage this one too.

Peter positively  _ quaked _ at the order and Wade’s quick thrusts and stroking, back arching up off the bed. He moaned brokenly and came, whimpering out a quiet, “Thank you, Wade.”

That did it for Wade - three more hard thrusts that made Peter’s eyes overflow once more and then he was spilling inside him. He quietly dropped his head back down, though he continued to hold himself up so he wouldn’t crush the younger man, and placed gentle kisses on his neck. He revisited the hickey he’d left with a soft nip.

He stayed still for a long moment, letting Peter’s body come down from the high somewhat before he slowly pulled out. Peter gave only a slightly disgruntled groan to show he was even still conscious.

“Want me to clean you up like last time, baby boy?”

Peter’s legs twitched and he bit his lip again. After a moment he gave a very weak, tired laugh and said, “I think I might cry again if you do.”

“Would that really be a bad thing?” Wade arched an eyebrow.

“... No.” Peter’s face, which had still been flushed anyway, turned bright red.

Wade chuckled, but hesitated to get to his knees. His hand hovered over the pouch containing his phone. “Can I get a picture of this first?”

Peter looked up at him through one eye, breathing slowly through his mouth. “Knock yourself out, man.” He finally chose to merely revisit the answer he’d given last time.

He made eye contact with the camera this time, too, though he didn’t bother opening his other eye.

Once he was sure he’d gotten a good picture, Wade put his phone away and dropped to his knees at the edge of the bed. He grabbed Peter’s legs and used them to haul his ass to the edge, thighs over his shoulders. And then he was lapping up the mess he’d made and Peter was a shaky, whimpering mess himself.

Through some small miracle, Peter’s own cum had only landed on his chest and not Wade’s, so once Wade had coaxed all of his seed out of Peter’s twitching hole he slid back up to his feet, letting Peter’s legs lock around his back, and lapped up that mess as well. Instinct told him to slide up further and kiss the man beneath him, but… Well. He wasn’t sure Peter would appreciate it right now. Or at all.

His body still moved up further, regardless, and he stalled once he was face to face with Peter. He managed to stop himself from kissing him and just sat there staring into his half-open eyes. Peter stared back.

After a long moment, it was Peter who kissed him, to his shock.

He kissed back, of course, and when Peter pulled away he did as well. Peter stared up at him once more. He stared back.

“If you disappear for a month this time,” Peter warned softly, “You’re not the one who’s going to be making death threats when we see each other again.”

Wade grinned sheepishly down at him. “About that…”

“Save it.” Peter put a hand over his mouth, moving quicker than Wade was expecting him to be able to at the moment. He waited until he thought Wade wasn’t going to try and keep talking before removing it. “Sleep now, talk later.”

“... You want me to stay the night?” Wade couldn’t describe how he felt about the request. Dumbfounded, maybe? He hadn’t thought Peter the type to let someone share his bed just because they’d fucked.

“You might as well.” Peter hummed, sitting up a little and straining slightly to look at his alarm clock. “Only about three and a half hours left ‘til morning anyway.”

Wade considered that. “Yeah, okay.”

“You don’t  _ have _ to stay,” Peter told him, unwrapping his legs from the older man’s waist and scooting out from under him so he could straighten out and burrow under his covers. “I’m just offering. Wouldn’t make sense to send you home when I’m expecting you to explain yourself in the morning.”

Wade laughed sheepishly. “Good point.” He hesitated. “Don’t uh… Don’t look at me?”

“Not gonna be looking at much anyway once I pass out, Wade. You don’t have to be self-conscious about your body around a sleeping man.” Peter’s eyes were already closed. He yawned. “But yeah. Sure. I won’t look at you.”

Wade took his word for it, because while Peter frequently seemed to lie to his targets and the other heroes, he was otherwise a very honest man. He felt like he could trust him to keep his word. He stripped out of his suit - mask included -, dropped his weapons atop the pile of fabric, and slipped into bed behind Peter. A moment’s hesitation and then he pulled him against his chest. Peter hummed in approval and within a moment or two Wade felt him relax, breathing evening out.

He stayed awake a little longer, but soon found himself dozing off with his face buried in Peter’s hair.


	3. morning after

Astonishingly enough, Wade was actually still there when Peter managed to blink the sleep from his eyes.

He was still pressed up against his back, warm and firm. His breath ruffled the hair on the back of his neck. Against his better judgement, Peter felt… Safe. He felt safe with someone else for the first time since early morning the day Aunt May died. He felt safe and he felt…

Content.

Good God, he was going soft. This wasn’t good. He needed to do something to ruin this moment so that he didn’t feel like this was okay. So his body didn’t trick his mind into trusting Wade too much. He didn’t want to fall in love again. Not after Gwen. Even if he knew he couldn’t lose Wade like that, knew that Wade couldn’t and wouldn’t ever die (or, rather, actually  _ stay _ dead) because of him, he didn’t want to chance anything. He didn’t want to feel something so strong for someone only to have that person ripped away from him.

He’d lost everyone else he’d ever actually cared about. He’d lost his parents, Uncle Ben and Aunt May, MJ, Gwen, even  _ Harry. _ He couldn’t take losing another one. MJ and Aunt May’s deaths had snapped something in him, but just one more person he cared about leaving him whether it was because they died or because they just didn’t feel the same would be… It would be  _ bad. _

It would absolutely shatter him.

He was shaken from the rather depressing train of thought he started down by Wade shifting behind him and tugging him closer. The feeling of being safe and content skyrocketed even as a pit formed in his stomach at the thought that this wouldn’t last and he couldn’t get attached. Wade nuzzled into his neck with a sleepy hum.

He forced his body to relax, forced the tenseness out of his muscles, and let out a slow breath.

Wade hummed approvingly. “Scare ya?” He asked, voice thick with sleep.

“Not used to waking up with someone.” Peter justified in a grumble.

He got a tired, but full-bellied laugh out of Wade for that, though he really didn’t see what was so funny. He didn’t argue it, though. He just stayed where he was and forcefully reminded himself that he’d told Wade he wouldn’t look at him. The urge to go back on his word was strong, though.

“You, uh…” Wade hesitated. “You haven’t looked at me, right?”

“I’ve been tempted.” Peter replied honestly. “But no.”

Wade relaxed. “Can I convince you to close your eyes while I get dressed?”

“Depends on if you won’t take the opportunity to bail.” Peter was only half-joking. He didn’t want to have to chase Wade down to get that explanation he was owed.

Wade just laughed, though. “Hey, I  _ wanted _ to explain myself to you, Petey. I’m not bailing until I know you understand.”

Peter hummed. “Why not just tell me now and  _ then _ get dressed so you can bail without repercussions?”

“I wanna tell you face to face. You know. For the sake of trust… Or some shit like that.”

Peter snorted. “Whatever, man. Go ‘head and get dressed, then. I can handle closing my eyes again for a few minutes.”

“You know for a guy who seems to get off on being an asshole half the time,” Wade commented as he almost reluctantly pulled away and got up, “You’re sickeningly nice to me.”

“If you were paying attention, though, you’d notice I only started doing that after you fucked me.” Peter pointed out as he shut his eyes. “No point chasing off somebody willing to put up with me long enough to have sex with me.”

“So you’re an asshole in the hopes you’ll chase people off, then?” Wade asked.

Peter quietly listened to the sound of him beginning to pull his suit back on for a second. “Yeah.” He admitted, “It’s easier that way.”

“How so?”

“The less people I let get close, the less people figure out that Peter Parker the mercenary and the friendly neighborhood Spiderman are the same person.” It was the truth, but certainly not the whole truth. The part where he didn’t want to get close to anyone because he didn’t want to lose them was left unaddressed.

Wade hummed.

The sound of a zipper.

“Right, okay.” Wade said, “You can look now.”

Peter opened his eyes and sat up, looking upon the suited menace. Wade hadn’t put his mask on all the way - he’d left it folded up so Peter could see his mouth.

“Okay. Spill, then.” Peter said, “I’m sure you’re just itching to run back to your apartment.”

Wade’s laugh this time sounded vaguely uncomfortable, but he started talking anyway, “Okay, so, long story short, I’ve got a lot of people who are very unhappy with me. You know me so I’m sure you can understand why.” He paused, “Anyways, day after our first little adventure in the warehouse, I had a run-in with some of them. They threatened your life since apparently they thought we were dating? I fought some of ‘em, and then I spent the rest of the month hunting down the stragglers.” Wade shrugged. “So I wasn’t, like, avoiding you. And while I’m aware you can handle yourself I still didn’t like the idea of them coming after you just cuz you let me fuck you exactly one time.”

Peter considered that, then found himself laughing. “I didn’t take you for the type to get protective over somebody you’ve fucked exactly once.”

“Hey, maybe I just wanted to protect that sweet ass so I could get more of it.” Wade argued good-naturedly.

Peter couldn’t help grinning at him. “I wasn’t complaining.” He put his hands up in surrender. “In fact, the thought of you killing people for me is kinda hot.” He admitted.

Wade’s own grin turned into a smirk. “Is it?” He stepped closer to the bed.

“Yeah.” Peter made sure to keep eye contact with him. “It is.”

“Even if I was just doing it so I could fuck you again?”

“Especially if you were just doing it so you could fuck me again.” Peter practically purred. “Never had somebody enjoy fucking me enough that they’d kill to keep the privilege.” He licked his lips even as Wade’s still ungloved hands landed on the bed at his sides. He could tell Wade was interested in what he was saying and he barely managed to suppress a shiver. “Makes me feel  _ special.” _

Wade chuckled, and it was a dark, predatory noise that made Peter tremble with want. And Wade… Wade obviously noticed. “Been a while since I had somebody so hard-headed submit to me.” He admitted, “It’s one hell of a power trip, I tell you what.”

“I’m usually not the submissive type,” Peter put one arm around Wade’s shoulders, gripping gently at the back of his neck, “But something about you just makes me  _ want _ to give you control. It’s sexy as hell, even if it is confusing.”

Wade nosed Peter’s face to the side and bit down on his neck, right on top of the hickey he’d already given him, making him moan. “Now you’re just  _ trying _ to make me horny.”

“That’s entirely possible.” Peter chuckled.

“I expect you to take care of the boner you’re giving me, here, Parker.” Wade growled into his throat. “And when you’re done maybe I’ll take care of you, too.”

Peter couldn’t help the low moan at the implications of that, dick becoming very much interested in what was happening. “How do you want me?” He asked.

If only submitting to Wade didn’t make him so fucking horny.

“On your knees on the bed.” Wade responded almost immediately, pulling back so he could comply. “Keep your legs spread, and under no circumstances are you allowed to touch yourself.”

Peter moved to take the position he’d been order to, glancing up at him. “Even if you leave without taking care of me?”

Wade’s grin told him all he needed to know. He was obviously feeling cruel today. Peter pouted, at that, but didn’t complain out loud, placing his hands complacently atop his legs and leaving them there. He was just waiting for a new order, now.

“Good boy.” Wade ran his fingers through his hair. “Now open your mouth and close your eyes.”

Peter obeyed. He felt Wade climb onto the bed as well, taking a position on his knees in front of him. The hand stayed on his head. He unconsciously leaned into the contact even as he heard Wade unzip the zipper on the front of his suit and remove his dick.

The hand in his hair carefully guided him forward, then, and he went along with it willingly until the head of Wade’s cock slid into his waiting mouth.

“You let me know if you need me to stop or slow down, but other than that you don’t move unless I tell you to, got that?” Peter hummed his agreement. “Two swats on the leg for stop, one for slow down.” Peter hummed once more. “Good boy.”

And then Wade was pushing his head down until he’d taken his cock in all the way to the base. Peter relaxed his throat and swallowed carefully around him, sucking on the swollen organ while he did so. Wade groaned in approval and pulled him back up, then shoved him back down. Peter very nearly choked, but managed to avoid it. It was about that time he decided he’d better start using an old trick he’d forgotten about. He squeezed his hand into a fist and kept his thumb held firmly beneath his other fingers, forcefully removing his gag reflex from the equation for the time being. He hadn’t had to do that since his Sophomore year of college.

This time, Wade’s hand in his hair forced him to keep his head still. He almost opened his eyes to question it nonverbally, but received his answer before he even got the chance. Wade pulled his hips back carefully, and then thrust forward. After checking to make sure that Peter was alright and not gagging, he did it again, more forcefully. Peter squeezed his thumb tighter just in case, but made no other moves to make this easier on himself. He stayed still like he was instructed and kept his mouth and throat open to the relentless thrusting of Wade’s cock.

Once he got used to the feeling of his throat being used as a cocksleeve, he started swallowing around Wade when he could and sucking as well. Here and there he managed to acquaint his tongue with the slit at the head of his cock.

He wasn’t sure how long it took, but finally Wade pulled completely out of his mouth, hand tightening in his hair.

“Keep your mouth open and your eyes shut. Try not to flinch.” He ordered lowly.

Peter almost whimpered at the tone, but he followed orders. He knew what was coming, and honestly? He wanted it. The mental image was actually pretty hot.

The hand in his hair left, and he heard one of Wade’s pouches open. “I’m going to record this.” Wade warned.

Peter trembled. He didn’t protest. He heard Wade fiddle with his phone for a second, grunting softly here and there as he was evidently already jerking himself slowly, and then the noises picked up speed. He could actually hear each stroke, and each little gasp and groan Wade made made his neglected dick twitch between his legs.

He heard Wade begin to curse under his breath. “Fuck,” Was uttered like a mantra for a moment. And then something warm and wet hit his tongue and cheek. The second spurt mostly hit his face. The third and fourth landed mostly on his tongue, and the final one hit his chin.

He heard Wade groan softly. “Swallow down what’s in your mouth, baby boy.” He ordered. Peter obeyed. Wade’s cock pressed against his tongue again, and he obligingly sucked on the head and licked at the slit, lapping up whatever was left. “Good boy.” The praise went right to his own cock.

Wade pulled out of his mouth, and Peter heard him end the recording.

“Need help cleaning up the rest of your face, baby boy?” Wade asked, less dominating now and obviously more interested in his well being.

Peter shook his head and carefully wiped the cum from his cheeks and chin with his thumb, licking the appendage clean after each swipe. Once he was sure he’d gotten everything, he opened his eyes and looked up at Wade, who was kind of just staring at him.

“Have I told you how fucking hot you are?” Wade finally asked.

“You may have mentioned it.” Peter grinned softly. He struggled to keep his legs spread like they were now that he wasn’t occupied, body telling him he should be hiding his erection and pressing his legs as close together as he could get them.

“Remind me to tell you about it again in the future.” Wade said, somewhat off-handedly. “You know how many times I looked at that picture I took of you in the warehouse in the past month? How many times I jerked it to the thought of leaving you somewhere, leaking my cum and looking oh so fucking helpless?”

Peter bit his lip to hold back the whine that built in his throat in reply.

“I’m tellin’ you, Petey, there’s a lot of people I wanna fuck, but you are the only one that’s managed to keep my attention this long. You’ve managed to worm your way into about 99% of my dirty fantasies and god  _ damn _ if I don’t love the idea of recreating most of them with you.”

Peter couldn’t hold back the whine he gave, that time. He could not  _ believe _ how much this was turning him on. Just being told that Wade had jerked it to the thought of him had made him achingly hard, but knowing Wade had  _ fantasized _ about him and wanted to make those fantasies a reality was… God damn. It made him unbelievably horny just to think about.

“Aw, am I gettin’ you all hot and bothered, baby boy? Does hearing me talk about how much I wanna hold you down and fuck you until you can’t even moan anymore do it for ya?”

_ “Yes.” _ Peter answered weakly before he could stop himself. Ugh, there was that desperate tone of voice again… But getting held down and fucked stupid sounded good. He wanted that. Like… Yes, please.

Wade released a filthy little chuckle in response to his answer, leaning down to kiss him at the same moment his hand wrapped around his flushed and leaking member. Peter moaned into the kiss, fists clenching atop his thighs. Wade took the opportunity to slip his tongue into his mouth, tasting his own release. He found himself moaning when Peter sucked on his tongue before carefully brushing his teeth over it.

He began stroking him quickly, and the nearly tender kiss very quickly became a rather rough method of muffling the younger male. He decided about halfway through, however, that he really wanted to listen to Peter fall apart and pulled back from the kiss. Peter whined at the loss of extra contact, but seemed to content himself rather quickly when Wade’s mouth simply relocated to his neck. He littered kisses and nips across the smooth skin, hand speeding up just a bit solely for the purpose of hearing the hitch in Peter’s breath.

“W-wade?” Peter gasped out.

“Yeah, baby boy?”

“K-...” Peter was cut off by a moan, “Kiss me again?”

Judging by the way his moans were growing hoarse, Wade could tell he was getting close. So he smirked into the skin of Peter’s neck for a second, waited for his hips to hitch as they usually seemed to right before he came, and then moved back up to kiss him hard. Peter whimpered into the kiss, hips hitching again. And then he came, and Wade was murmuring praises against Peter’s lips.

He carefully worked him down from the orgasm, then pulled away.

“Take a shower, Petey.” Wade ordered with a chuckle as he got up. “I’m going to bail, now, if you don’t mind.”

Peter laughed. “Sure, get out of my apartment.” He paused. “Also, you’re paying to replace my doors, you cunt.”

“I was already planning on it.” Wade grinned sheepishly at him as he finally strapped all of his weapons back where they were meant to be, “I  _ am _ sorry about that. I was… Way out of my head yesterday.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Peter waved a hand and carefully removed himself from his bed. “Don’t forget your gloves - you left them in the other bathroom.” He called after the man as he exited.

“Knew I was missing something.” Wade laughed from somewhere else in his apartment.

Peter was quick to stumble to his door and close it the best he could, then leaned against the wall next to it. He was grinning like an idiot, now that Wade couldn’t see him, and he waited until he heard Wade’s footsteps head down the hall outside his apartment before he let himself laugh.

He was not in love with Wade Wilson.

He was not in love with Wade Wilson by any stretch whatsoever.

… But he wouldn’t argue that Wade was nice to have around, sometimes.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for this chapter: chapter begins with not exactly graphic self-harm, but self-harm nonetheless so please tread carefully
> 
> also most of this chapter, like prior chapters, is two years old  
> the ending bits are more recent but for the most part it's old and i didn't really spellcheck it at all so (shrug)

This was, admittedly, a bad idea.

But Peter’s mind wasn’t focusing on what was good in the long run so much as it was focusing on what was good for him right now. And this was good for him. Sort of.

Okay, so it was bad for him either way, but right now it _felt_ like it was good for him. It did good things for his mental state at the very least. Even if it injured his body, it healed his mind ever so slightly. And that was what he needed. He needed mental clarity.

So that was why he was sitting in his tub with one of his more favored knives and slicing into the meat of his own thigh. That was why he was watching the blood run red and pink into the drain, washed away by the shower spray.

His body trembled. He knew he shouldn’t do this. He knew this wasn’t okay. But sometimes it was all he could do. It was all he had. _It was all he had._ When he woke up gasping for breath from nightmares the one thing he could count on to calm him down was the biting of the knife into his skin and the sting of the hot water in the wounds.

His healing factor may have been fairly weak in comparison to Wade’s, but it still worked quickly to at least clot the cuts, although he knew they’d be scabby and sore for at least a few hours after this.

He sat the knife aside once his mind felt clear. He sat under the shower spray a moment longer before standing up on quivering legs and exiting the shower.

It was two in the morning.

He dried himself somewhat robotically. Got dressed in a pair of soft booty-shorts that clung to his ass but didn’t pull at his wounds. They’d been a gag gift from MJ back in high school. He’d worn them from time to time in order to spite her - playfully of course. They still fit all these years later. He wore them when he was upset or when he needed to avoid his pants yanking off his scabs.

He put on a shirt that was much too big for him. He didn’t know where it came from. He didn’t care. It was soft, too, and hung down almost to the edge of the shorts.

He let his hair do whatever the fuck it wanted for the time being and stumbled out into his bedroom. The door was finally fixed. Wade had fixed it for him.

Fuck.

_Wade._

Peter had forgotten, in his rush to quiet the screaming in his head, that Wade regularly saw him naked. That Wade would likely be ‘round wanting to see him naked again, soon. That Wade now had a key to his apartment and could come in literally whenever he wanted and that he would probably show up soon _and then he would_ _find out and_

Peter found himself sitting on his bedroom floor crying, and if asked he’d say he didn’t know why. But he knew. Gazing at the angry red lines in his thighs through the blur of tears, he knew. He didn’t want Wade to see him like this. He didn’t want to be caught. Dear _God_ he didn’t want to be caught. Wade was gonna be so _mad_ when he found out, he was gonna be so _disappointed._ Peter didn’t want him to be disappointed in him. He didn’t want to disappoint anyone again. He didn’t, he didn’t, he _didn’t-_

He dropped his face into his hands and sobbed openly.

An hour later, he picked himself up off the floor, completely and totally exhausted, and stumbled into his living room. He collapsed onto his couch and wrapped himself up in a blanket. He turned on the TV to distract himself. And he fell back asleep.

He woke to being lifted carefully. Through the haze of sleep, he realized it must be Wade. He nuzzled into the man’s neck with a pleased hum, making Wade chuckle and cementing the idea that it was him.

“Go back to sleep, baby boy.” He said, “I’m just carrying you to bed, okay?”

“Mmmkay.” Peter agreed easily.

He was deposited on the bed gently after Wade presumably pulled back the covers. Wade attempted to un-burrito him, and Peter rolled over onto his stomach to help him. And to hide the cuts he’d just remembered he needed to hide. Wade laughed softly.

“I’m gonna take this back to the living room, and then I’m gonna come cuddle you, alright?”

Peter only replied with a pleased hum and a very tired, “Yaaaaayyyy, cuddlessss.”

It made Wade laugh again, and once he’d left the room Peter was quick to roll onto his side and bury himself beneath his covers. By the time he returned, Peter was teetering on the edge of unconsciousness again. Wade’s arms wrapped around him, pulling him against his chest. Peter was kind of surprised to feel the skin of his arms and… Was that a T-shirt Wade as wearing?

He gave a questioning hum even as he cuddled up closer to the older male. Wade had been so adamant about not showing Peter what was happening under his suit, so far. What had changed?

“Sleep, baby boy.” Wade nuzzled into his hair.

“You’re wearing a normal shirt.” Peter grumbled instead of immediately listening to him. “Wanna know why. ‘M I allowed to look at you now?”

Wade tensed slightly. Even his voice sounded tense. “I’ll probably be back in my suit by the time you get up again.”

Peter grumbled something else that even _he_ didn’t quite catch, but decided to let the matter lie. Wade slowly relaxed when he didn’t pursue it further. Finally he gave a soft sigh, seemingly not realizing Peter was still awake. “That was fucking close.”

Peter suppressed his laugh and let sleep take him once more.

He woke, this time, alone. He could hear Wade moving around in another room, though. He let that knowledge settle his mind and lull him back to sleep. It was only right as he was tipping over the edge of unconsciousness that he realized he’d kicked off the blanket, and that his thighs were out in the open.

The knowledge did not come fast enough for him to correct his mistake, and it was gone far too quickly to wake him back up.

This time, Wade’s voice woke him. It was… Shaky. Tense. He hummed in question and angled his head toward where he thought he was speaking from.

“Peter.” Wade said again.

“Wade?” He asked, voice rough from sleep. His eyes blinked open blearily, staring at the man who was, of course, masked now. “What’s wrong?”

“What the _fuck_ is this?” Wade asked, hand gripping Peter’s thigh, an inch below his wounds.

Peter’s eyes widened, all traces of sleep shaken from him immediately. His gaze flicked between Wade’s unreadable masked face and the angry red, scabbing marks on his legs. He stammered for a reply. He hated stuttering. He hated not knowing if Wade was actually angry or not. His tone said anger but he couldn’t see his face, so he didn’t _know-_

“Peter.” Wade’s grip on his leg eased, and his other hand started to reach toward his face.

Peter reacted immediately. He kicked off the hand on his leg and was already curled up on his right side beneath the blanket by the time Wade processed what was going on.

It hit Wade, then, that he’d sounded angry. He hadn’t _meant_ to. He _wasn’t_ angry. He was… He was worried. Scared. He couldn’t think of any reason why Peter would cut himself and it scared him. It obviously wasn’t for attention, because the terror in his eyes when he’d realized Wade had seen the marks wasn’t even within the same ballpark as the typical response for that scenario. It wasn’t a serious suicide gesture because they weren’t deep or long enough for that. But it still scared him. Peter wasn’t the type to hurt himself like that.

… Or maybe he was.

It struck Wade just how little he _actually_ knew about Peter, when it came down to it. He knew how he fought. He knew, from asking around and what he’d seen himself, that Peter’s preferred method for taking someone out was a bullet to the brain. He knew the guy was _hella_ smart, had an actual college education even if it was general and he’d changed his major very suddenly to general studies after the death of his aunt, and _had_ had hopes and dreams of some kind before that particular incident. He knew Peter hated talking about that. He knew Peter could throw one hell of a punch and that there was some serious fucking super strength hiding in his little twink muscles. He knew Peter was stubborn as a mule.

But he didn’t know a whole lot else. What he _did_ know was hardly enough to actually get a good picture of Peter’s personality. He’d known him since he was in his Senior year of high school and that chunk of information was still all that he had after eight years. It had taken him the past _six_ years of that just to figure out Peter was a mercenary.

So, all things considered, he didn’t think he was exactly the best judge when it came to what ‘type’ Peter was.

He took a deep breath, “Peter,” He said as calmly as he could, “I’m sorry if I sounded angry. I’m not. I just panicked a little when I saw the cuts.” He rested a hand on Peter’s shoulder, atop the blanket. The younger flinched only slightly. That was a good sign. “I didn’t mean to scare you, baby boy.” A soft squeeze. “Can I uncover you?”

There was a moment where Peter didn’t so much as breathe. Then, slowly, he let out a breath and Wade saw his grip on the edge of the cover go lax. He made sure to move his hand up to grab it slowly so he wouldn’t scare him, then carefully pulled it away from his head. Peter’s eyes were squeezed shut, jaw and neck tense as he breathed slowly through his nose. Wade knew he was just trying to keep himself calm, and that was alright.

He rested his free hand atop Peter’s head and gently stroked his hair. The younger male swallowed and relaxed slightly. He pulled the cover down lower, continuing to stroke his hair. It was almost like petting a dog so they wouldn’t realize you were taking their toy. Except Peter knew full well what he was doing and definitely wasn’t a dog, even if he did like being called a good boy.

He slid the cover down past Peter’s hips. Knees. Saw how tightly he was pressing his legs together despite the wounds likely being right on top of each other that way. It couldn’t have felt good. He released the cover and gently grabbed Peter’s left knee - the one on top at the moment - and pulled at it. Peter resisted for a second, eyes flickering open to look at him, and then he sighed to himself and let Wade pull his legs apart.

Wade moved his hand from Peter’s head and placed it on his knee to hold his legs open.

Now that Wade could see the injuries a bit better, he felt a pit grow in his stomach. Yes, they weren’t serious suicide gestures, but they were still cuts. Obviously self-inflicted, too. The left thigh had exactly four cuts, parallel to each other, on the inside. The right leg had obviously not fared as well. The cuts on his left leg were short and fairly shallow, but the ones on his right leg… There were six longer ones that looked unsettlingly deep despite their level of healing, and then three shorter, shallower ones. It was progressive, too. The ones near the top of the inside of his right thigh were the deepest and longest. By the final one on the right, they were shorter and much less concerning. All four on the left were about the same.

And now that he was looking so closely, he could see faded scars from where Peter had obviously done this before.

Opening Peter’s legs had shifted him onto his back, but when Wade looked up toward his face he found that Peter still had it turned to the right, half hidden under his left arm.

“Petey,” He said carefully, “Why?”

Peter took a shaky breath, but didn’t reply.

Wade sighed, gently stroking his fingers over the unmarked skin below Peter’s wounds. He watched Peter’s adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. He kept stroking at the skin, watching as Peter seemed to slowly calm down from whatever panic he’d worked himself into.

Peter opened his mouth and said, almost too quiet to be heard, “It’s the only way I can calm myself down.”

It took a lot of self control for Wade to avoid squeezing his legs in response. In all honesty, the fact that he was holding Peter’s legs down was the only thing keeping him from clenching his fists.

He waited quietly for Peter to continue, because he knew there must be more to it than that.

“I have… _Nightmares.”_ Peter admitted after a long moment, “And hurting myself is the only way I can make myself relax when I wake up from them.” That they weren’t frequent occurrences did not need to be said. “Or, well… It’s the _easiest_ way. I could wait it out. I’ve done that before. But I’m always so fucking _exhausted_ when I do that.” He took a breath. “Besides, considering the shit I dream about, hurting myself seems pretty fair when I first wake up.”

Wade thought back to what he knew about Peter. He thought back to the people he knew the guy had lost, and how he’d lost them. Uncle Ben, Gwen Stacy, Mary Jane Watson, Aunt May, even both of his parents. Mugger, nemesis, a house fire, and the last two had simply disappeared as far as Wade knew. So, despite admitting he didn’t know Peter as well as he’d like to pretend he did, he thought it fair to assume that Peter’s nightmares were about the losses of the people he knew were dead.

He’d never actually gotten the full story about Gwen (or Aunt May and MJ, now that he was thinking about it), but from what he understood Peter blamed himself for her death. And not passively, either, like he blamed himself for the other three - he’d played an active role in the situation that led to her death, and he very actively blamed himself. So… That was probably the subject of the worst dreams.

Instead of addressing any of that out loud, he hummed and continued to gently stroke the smooth skin. “So when did these happen?”

Peter hesitated. He opened his mouth to reply immediately, but then snapped it closed. For a moment he didn’t so much as try again. Then, finally, he opened his mouth again and admitted in a whisper, “Last night. Not too long before you carried me in here from the couch.”

Wade’s heart ached, a lot of his mind did a double take, and the last remaining part of his head noted the distinct lack of something important.

His heart ached because Peter had sounded so happy and content when he’d moved him in here, even in the wake of having done this sort of thing to himself. The implications of that spoke volumes to how much Peter actually liked him, which admittedly did funny things to him, but mostly made him hurt. Partially because Peter would likely never admit it out loud, and partially because he knew he could never be with Peter romantically. Even now that he knew the kind of person Peter actually was when he wasn’t galavanting around being a hero, he knew he wouldn’t be good for the man.

As for his mind…

[ _Last night? He did this last night?!_ ]

{ **Looks like our little Spidey has a healing factor of his own!** }

And then...

[ _So where’s the knife, then?_ ]

{ **Yeah! And where’s all the bloodstained shit? Seems suspicious.** }

[ _I think he’s lying._ ]

{ **I think he’s lying.** }

He… Actually couldn’t fault them for that. He thought he was lying, too.

“Where?” He asked in a low growl.

Peter trembled, “Bathtub in the en suite bathroom.” He answered. “Same place I always do it.”

Some of Wade’s suspicions waned. That was a reasonable answer, and far too quickly given to have been a lie. Not unless he’d practiced the answer a lot, and considering how hard Peter was pussyfooting around the whole situation, Wade didn’t think he’d ever practiced anything in terms of discussing it. He’d probably thought he could keep anyone from ever finding out. And, besides - Peter was smart. The bathtub was a smart place to hurt yourself, if you didn’t want to make a mess. Of course that was where he’d cut himself.

“Okay,” Wade accepted out loud, forcing his voice to be calm and steady. “Okay.”

“Wade?” Peter spoke a little louder than he had the past few times. But he still sounded so very unsure. So… Insecure.

“Yeah, Petey?”

Peter had rolled completely onto his back, now, and for about a second or two he made eye contact before he looked away again. He swallowed. “You’re…” He paused and a tremor ran through him. He had to bite down on his lip. “You’re disappointed in me, aren’t you?”

Was he- aw, shit, he was. He was about to cry. Wade’s heart clenched. “Aw, baby boy…”

Peter’s only response was very shaky breath that bordered on being a sob.

Wade knew he needed to tread carefully. Peter was vulnerable and obviously extremely unstable right now. This wasn’t exactly his best skill, but he thought he could maybe calm him down.

He moved his hand back up to Peter’s hair from his knee. “Baby boy,” He repeated as soothingly as he could, “I’m not disappointed in you. Promise.” Peter sniffled in reply. “I swear. Scout’s honor. I’m not disappointed. I’m actually just trying not to freak out because you hurting yourself scares me more than I care to admit.”

Peter looked back up toward his face hesitantly. He was still biting his lip. But he looked… Hopeful? No, hopeful probably wasn’t the right word. But it was the closest he could come to describing that pitiful little lip-bitten pout and wide, watery eyes.

Wade moved his other hand off of Peter’s knee momentarily to push his mask up so Peter could see his mouth. Then he returned the hand to its former residence. Peter seemed to relax at being able to see his mouth, but his expression didn’t change.

“Maybe I’m just selfish and stupid,” Wade said, “But I want you whole, unharmed, and as happy as I can possibly make you.”

The tears in Peter’s eyes spilled over, alarming Wade somewhat. His fingers tightened slightly in the younger’s hair, mind running rampant with “what did I do wrong??”, but Peter didn’t seem to notice. He just squeezed his eyes shut and let out another of those breaths that sounded like it was almost a sob. Wade moved his gloved hand to Peter’s cheek to scrub the tears away, but the moment he touched, Peter’s own hands shot up and pressed his closer to his face. He went still and watched in mild curiosity and the same slight alarm as Peter held his hand there and then began to very gently nuzzle against it.

Wade breathed a sigh of relief. Peter opened his eyes slightly to look at him. Wade smiled and carefully stroked his cheek with his thumb. The younger male let out a sigh of his own and closed his eyes again, pressing as close as he could to the gloved appendage.

“You okay?” Wade finally asked.

Peter responded with a shaky laugh. The smile on his face was unstable and twitchy. His grip on Wade’s hand tightened slightly. “I just- Will you-” He squeezed his hand again and took a breath. “Can I use you as a teddy bear for a while?”

“Of course, baby boy.” Wade said soothingly.

Peter carefully moved his legs a little bit. “Just. Just lay on me, okay?”

Wade hesitated slightly. “Petey, baby, I’m heavy as shit. Especially when I’m in-costume.” He warned the younger male.

“I don’t care.” Peter grumbled. “Lay on me and let me cuddle you.”

Well. He couldn’t argue if Peter was going to get all assertive like that. He maneuvered himself and laid down carefully atop the smaller male, trying very hard not to put all of his weight on him. Peter sighed, almost in a relieved way, and wrapped his arms tightly around him. His face quickly found its way into Wade’s shoulder. He breathed deep.

Wade practically felt all of the tense muscles in Peter’s body relax under him. He swallowed. Turned his face into the younger’s hair. Nuzzled carefully into it. He wanted to make sure he didn’t startle or accidentally dislodge him from his current position because he seemed to be enjoying having his nose pressed firmly into the junction of Wade’s neck and shoulder.

How many times had he told him he stank, in the past? And yet now here he was happily breathing in his scent like it was the only thing on Earth that he wanted to smell.

… God, Peter had it _bad,_ didn’t he? Wade forced himself not to groan at the thought. He could deal with this. He could deal with this and not let on that he realized Peter was at least crushing on him. Acting oblivious wasn’t hard.

[ _Besides, if he realizes we know, he’ll want a relationship._ ]

{ **And he’ll get awfully upset if we tell him no.** }

[ _Yeah. Better to keep our mouth shut this time._ ]

{ **Unless you wanna watch him cry some more. And you do, don’t you?** }

_I do not want to watch Petey cry._ Wade rolled his eyes, _Unless he’s crying from how good my cock or mouth is. Or my ass, actually. You think Petey’d ever top?_

[ _Oh, that’d be hot as hell._ ]

{ **Can you imagine him getting all assertive and shoving you down into the mattress? Fuck yes, please.** }

“Wade.” Peter’s voice was considerably more stable now. And hell, he almost sounded amused.

“Yeah, baby boy?”

“Why are you hard?” Oh, yep, that was definitely amusement. Wade could feel the grin being pressed into his collarbone. Amusement was good, even if it _was_ at his expense, currently. That meant he was doing his job. Peter was calming down.

“Gonna be totally honest here,” Wade said, somewhat sheepishly, “I may or may not have been imagining _you_ fucking _me.”_

Was it his imagination, or did Peter squeeze him a little tighter at the admission?

“Definitely not what I was expecting,” Peter admitted in reply, “But I’m also not complaining about the mental image.”

[ _Oh, shit, is he actually into the idea?_ ]

{ **I’m pretty sure he is.** }

“What kind of mental image you got, baby?”

“Probably not the same one you had,” Peter nosed at his neck, “But I mean… You’re kind of on top of me right now, so…”

[ _He’s getting hard._ ]

{ **He is definitely getting hard.** }

[ _He wants us to ride him._ ]

{ **Our baby boy wants us to fuck ourselves on his cock.** }

[ _God, that’s hot._ ]

Wade agreed wholeheartedly. That was hot as _fuck._ And oh boy did he want to go through with it.

“Do you want me to ride you, Petey?” He asked, regardless, just to be sure. And maybe to tease a little.

“Is that even a question?” Peter actually _snickered_ it out. And then he rolled his hips up, brushing their half-hard members together, and Wade forgot all about being mildly annoyed by the response. _“Yes,_ Wade, I want you to ride me.” Peter had lifted his face specifically for the purpose of whispering that directly into his ear.

The shudder that ran through Wade was well-worth it.

The only issue Wade had was that riding Peter required him to take off his pants, which he was… Not really okay with. He didn’t want Peter to see the kind of fucked up freak he was under his suit. What glimpses he got already were bad enough, even if they hadn’t sent him running yet.

Almost like he could sense his unease and what caused it, Peter rubbed his back gently. “I think I recall telling you that you could blindfold me.” He said carefully, “If you feel like you need to, you can still do that.”

Wade swallowed. “... Yeah. You got anything I could use for that?” He pulled back slightly to try and look down at him.

Peter obliged with that attempt by dropping his head onto the pillow and returning his gaze. His cheeks looked a little pink. “I may or may not have an actual blindfold specifically for situations like this in the same drawer I keep the lube in.”

Wade whistled appreciatively. “You got anything else fun in there?”

Peter’s cheeks tinted further. “... I have handcuffs. And I _might_ have a cock ring in there.”

“... You happen to have the keys to those handcuffs?”

Peter nodded mutely, cheeks only burning brighter because he knew why Wade was asking.

“Can I handcuff you to the headboard, baby boy?”

Peter nodded again, and if he could have blushed any brighter at all, he probably would have. Or - okay, yeah, no; redact the “probably.” If he could have blush any brighter at all, he most certainly would have. “Sometimes you are a god damned walking wet dream, Wade.” Peter informed him under his breath as the older male leaned over toward the bedside table.

It made Wade laugh, which was good. Peter liked it when Wade laughed. It made him feel better.

“You know you don’t need to flatter me to get me to ride you, right, baby boy?” Wade teased.

“I know. But am I gonna do it anyway?”

Wade laughed again and shook his head good-naturedly, procuring the items he was after - lube, handcuffs and keys, and blindfold - before moving back to his more comfortable place sitting atop Peter’s hips. He was mindful of not putting his full weight on him, for the most part, but on the occasions when he slipped up, Peter didn’t complain.

“Okay, hands above your head, baby boy.” He said, and Peter complied without a word.

He was careful not to tighten the cuffs too much after he had them around Peter’s wrists, chain itself around one of the bars of the headboard, but with Peter suddenly very quiet it was hard to tell if he’d left them loose enough. He didn’t pursue it, though. He just checked the tightness himself and let Peter watch him work.

Peter staring at him was only slightly unnerving, and only because his gaze was almost unnecessarily piercing right now. Like he was looking right into Wade’s soul.

He grabbed the blindfold next, running the fabric between his gloved fingers for a second before dropping it onto Peter’s chest for the time being. He’d just remembered he needed to remove his gloves before this went much further. Peter let out a soft chuckle at the fact that he’d forgotten about them. Wade stuck out his tongue and discarded them off the side of the bed.

Then he took up the blindfold again and tied it around Peter’s head, careful not to catch his hair in the knot.

“You good, baby boy?”

Peter hummed an affirmative. “I’m good. Much as I really wanna watch you work yourself open and then fuck yourself on my cock, I’m willing to content myself with listening instead.”

Wade shuddered. “You really don’t want to see what’s going on under this suit… But the fact that you want to watch is actually really, _really_ hot.”

“I doubt it’s as bad as you make it out to be.” Even though Peter was blindfolded, Wade could feel him rolling his eyes. “But whatever. You’re entitled to being insecure about your body.” A pause, “... Even if I do want to do everything in my power to make you feel less insecure about it.”

“That’s sweet.” Wade teased.

Peter’s cheeks, which had started to return to their normal color, turned red again.

Wade quietly removed himself from the bed, and Peter’s lap, long enough to divest himself of his pants and, after a moment of consideration, his mask, too. He didn’t really need it if Peter was going to be blindfolded, did he? He tossed all of his weapons aside as an afterthought, as well.

From here beside the bed, though, he could see those little black short-shorts Peter was wearing were tented pretty nicely. He ignored the cuts (which were now completely scabbed over, which he wasn’t questioning) in favor of examining the way the fabric of the shorts clung to the flesh of Peter’s thighs above them. He was willing to bet Petey’s ass looked _amazing_ in those. All round and bouncy and _perfect._

Roving his eyes up higher showed him Peter’s shirt riding up his stomach, and… The head of Peter’s cock just barely poking out from under the waistband of his shorts. Oh, that was hot. He licked his lips at the sight, carefully climbing back onto the bed a little lower than he’d been before so that he could lean down comfortably and run his tongue over the exposed section of Peter’s cock, dipping into the slit. Peter’s level of restraint in himself was obvious when his only response was a gasp and his thighs twitching.

“You have any clue how hot it is,” Wade began, hooking his fingers in the waistband of the shorts and pulling them down slightly, “That your cock is too big to fit in these tiny little shorts of yours when it’s hard?”

Peter gave a soft little hum in reply, but his cock twitched at the words, completely giving away his feelings about it.

“You got such a nice cock, Petey.” Wade praised with a smirk, “Gonna feel so good in me.”

He watched closely as Peter bit his lip at that. His hands tugged slightly at the cuffs holding him, but not hard enough to dislodge them whatsoever. Knowing that handcuffs weren’t actually near strong enough to keep Peter restrained if he didn’t want to be just made this better for Wade. Consent was important, after all, and the fact that Peter had consented _and_ was being careful not to break the handcuffs… Yeah. This was good. But that reminded him of something.

He smiled. “Hey, Petey?”

“Yeah?”

“We should _probably_ establish safewords.” He pointed out. “At least one for you, right now.”

Peter, apparently, had already been thinking about it, though, because his response was pretty immediate. “Pineapple.”

Wade laughed slightly. “Pineapple it is then.”

“Are you laughing because I just blurted out a fruit or for some other reason?”

“I’m laughing because you just blurted out a fruit _and_ for some other reason. That reason being that ‘pineapple’ is the safe word I usually use.”

Peter’s lips twitched up into an amused smile. “Well, great minds and all that.”

Wade snickered, then took a breath to sober himself, running a finger up the shaft of Peter’s still only half-exposed cock. He got a hum in reply. He grinned and did it again, making the man beneath him twitch. Licking his lips, he pushed the waistband of Peter’s short shorts down a little lower. Peter lifted his hips to assist him in pulling them down to his knees.

With his grin still firmly in place, he wrapped a hand around Peter’s erection and gave a quick stroke, just to tease him up to full hardness. And, wouldn’t you know it, it worked.

“You’re pretty thick, you know that?” Wade asked, stroking again, “And I mean that in a good way. As in your cock is thick and I like that in a man.”

“Something tells me I’m not near as thick as the last guy who fucked you.” Peter was careful to avoid naming who it was, and Wade was thankful for that. The last thing he needed was a reminder of that mess. If Peter didn’t name names, he could pretend he hadn’t been _dating_ the guy who’d fucked him last, and that dating him hadn’t been a huge mistake and waste of his time.

Ha. Time.

“Mm, you’re right about that,” Wade replied, “But yours is actually worth the effort of getting inside of me.”

“Fuck.” Was all Peter said to that.

“That’s the idea.”

He decided to stop toying with him for the time being, reaching over to grab the lube. When he popped the cap, Peter’s hands tugged slightly at the cuffs again. With a hum, he lubed up his fingers and then pressed one in with a groan. It’d been a while.

A long while, actually.

He allowed himself to get lost in the sensation for a little while, soft noises falling from his lips and obviously driving the man beneath him crazy. It was weird how Peter was still so responsive even when he wasn’t being touched. And it was also weird how much noise Wade could actually make just fingering himself - he’d forgotten how sensitive he was as a bottom.

Eventually Wade worked a second finger into himself, resting a hand on Peter’s hip to steady himself. Peter hummed.

“I kinda forgot how much I liked this.” Wade admitted in a groan.

“I swear, if you cum before you ride me, and you’re too overstimulated to go another round, I will probably scream.” Peter grumbled.

Wade gave a breathy laugh. “Even if I came before I got to sit on that delicious dick of yours,” He said, “I could recover fast enough to go ahead and ride you anyway. Perks of this insane healing factor of mine.”

“God I fucking hope so.” Peter’s voice took on a sultry tone, “I’d really hate it if I had to wait to bury my cock in that tight, muscled ass of yours until you recovered if you took as long as a regular person. I might not last that long, after all. I could probably cum just thinking about how tight and hot you’re going to be around my cock.”

Wade moaned, although it tapered off into something closer to a whimper. “Fuck, Petey, keep talking like that and I’ll _definitely_ cum before I get on your cock.”

“Bet you’d be even tighter if you did.” Peter commented huskily.

Well if that didn’t go straight to his dick, holy _damn._

He pushed a third finger into himself with a little groan. He would admit that he kind of had to force the stretch - his body wasn’t ready for the third finger yet, but it was well worth the burn. He didn’t want to wait much longer. Peter wanted him to ride him, and he wanted it probably just as much as Peter did. Maybe more.

… Eight years was an awful long time to want something like this without getting it, after all. And he wasn’t entirely sure Peter had wanted it all that time, but he knew _he_ had. Dear God, the last few times he’d so much as been around Peter had damn near been real-life versions of some of his favorite fantasies. The encounter during which he’d fucked Peter’s mouth and came all over his face, especially. He’d been fantasizing about that almost since the day he’d met the guy.

Which, admittedly, sounded really creepy out of context, because most people didn’t realize that he hadn’t actually even met Peter until he’d already been 18 for a month and a half, and that Wade had only been 22 at the time. 

22 years old and fresh out of the program that had permanently fucked up his entire body, so, admittedly, the first couple of meetings with Peter hadn’t been great.

But whatever. That didn’t matter anymore. Because now he had an okay relationship with Peter and he was currently stretching himself open to sit on his cock, which wasn’t something he’d ever expected to actually happen. Even after his little rendezvous with Peter in that warehouse or the last two times they’d messed around, he’d been fairly certain he’d be the one pitching every time they decided to have each other.

He was definitely okay with this turn of events, though.

He pulled his fingers out, at last, feeling adequately prepped. Time to get on to the main event.

“Condom?” He asked as he reached for the lube.

“I mean,” Peter muttered, “I _have_ some, but using one isn’t exactly high on my list of priorities.”

“Fair enough.”

Lubing Peter up was a quick and rather sloppy ordeal, mostly because Wade was getting impatient.

… And maybe also because the contact made Peter groan and arch his hips up. Wade didn’t really want to chance getting him too worked up yet. Didn’t want him to blow early.

Sinking down onto Peter’s hard, leaking member caused a groan to leave both of them. Peter’s sounded more like relief than Wade’s, but to Wade that really didn’t matter. Holy _shit_ Peter felt good.

[ _He’s thicker than he looks. Feels nice._ ]

{ **Jesus fucking Christ.** }

Peter valiantly held still under him, bottom lip caught between his teeth in a way that looked at least mildly painful. Wade leaned down, careful to avoid jostling himself too much, and carefully kissed at the younger’s lips until he released the bottom one and kissed back. He lifted his hips slowly, muffling his sound in Peter’s mouth, and pushed back down.

Peter’s teeth clamped down (fairly carefully) on his lip this time, a low growl escaping him. Wade didn’t even know Peter could growl.

Haha.

_Hot._

He lifted himself again slowly, then pushed down, shifting his hips. Oh, fuck yeah. Right there. He’d found it already. This was gonna be _good._

“God, you’re so fucking tight.” Peter hissed against his lips, nibbling on his lower lip in a way that was doing things to Wade that just having his lip nibbled on definitely should not be doing. “You really are a god damned walking wet dream, Wade.”

“Flattery-” He regretted pulling his lip free from Peter’s teeth. He missed the sensation already, “-will get you a lot of places, baby boy.”

Peter gave another growl, barely keeping his strength under control and only just barely managing to avoid breaking the cuffs off. He strained against them somewhat, regardless. He couldn’t help it. He wanted to be holding onto Wade’s hips, steadying him, helping him - it was just the kind of person Peter was. Rather than dwelling on it, he tried to let himself enjoy the feeling of Wade bouncing on his cock.

“I didn’t know you could growl.” Wade informed him, sounding breathless already.

Peter chuckled and thrust up into him. Admittedly he hadn’t ever realized he could do it either, but now that he’d noticed… “Me either,” He replied out loud once Wade’s moan had tapered off.

“It’s hot.” He told him.

Peter just chuckled again, meeting Wade’s downward thrust easily and wringing another moan from him. He’d definitely be filing that knowledge away for later, no question. He was also going to file away the knowledge that he didn’t mind the pain of his cuts being touched when he was in a sexual situation. Not pertinent information, typically, but something he was fine with having found out about.

He thrust up again and was fairly delighted when it caused Wade to make a pretty little sound and brace himself on Peter’s chest. He was kissed with a fair bit of ferocity, which he returned eagerly with another pleased growl. He resumed chewing on Wade’s bottom lip when Wade’s kiss turned more into an attempt to muffle himself than an actual kiss, and Wade _whined_ above him.

God, hot.

He met Wade thrust for thrust as he bit down and scraped his teeth over Wade’s bottom lip. Muffled a few moans of his own in the process and secretly reveled in the sting of Wade’s thighs hitting his cuts. Reveled not-so-secretly in the feeling of him just being there on top of him and even less secretly in the tight heat of Wade around his cock. Slid his tongue into Wade’s mouth and moaned louder than he’d like to admit to when Wade none-too-gently bit down on his tongue.

He tasted blood.

He lifted his head to keep their lips together even when Wade pulled back.

“Sorry,” Wade managed, without slowing or stopping.

“Not mad.” Was all Peter could manage in return, straining his arms a little against the cuffs now that he wasn’t distracted. “Get back down here.”

“Ooh, demanding, aren’t you?” Wade teased, but he did lean back down.

“You like it,” Peter snorted back.

Wade didn’t justify that with a response and Peter really didn’t expect him to. He kissed him again and it was Wade who slipped his tongue into Peter’s mouth this time. He made a point of lapping at the spots he’d bitten, spreading the taste of blood around in Peter’s mouth as he did so. The younger male just moaned and let him, because honestly? Hot.

This was all hot.

Taking a chance after a moment, though, he bit down (not as hard) on Wade’s tongue and shuddered when it made him whine again.

_ Oh, _ don’t break the handcuffs. Don’t break the handcuffs.

Fuck.

And as embarrassing as it was, he felt that knot start tightening up in his stomach in response to that noise and, you know, the fact that Wade was still riding his dick like his ass was on fire.

He heard his own voice crack a bit as he got closer, and heard Wade give another whine, shifting his hips above him as he made the noise.

It, uh.

It didn’t last much longer, after that.

Wade, for once, came first after sitting up and, apparently, starting to stroke himself as he continued to ride him. He went tense and Peter gasped. He came apart after a couple more thrusts, himself, and Wade, the fucking  _ wet dream that he was, _ wiggled his hips and clenched down around him while he came.

And they stayed like that, for a few minutes, before Wade eventually pulled off of him and unlocked the handcuffs for him.

Peter waited to pull the blindfold off, for now, rubbing at his wrists and finding himself smiling because wow.  _ Wow. _ That was something.

Definitely worth having had a nightmare.

Only once he heard what sounded like Wade pulling his pants back on did he pull the blindfold off. And Wade, still only half-wearing his mask, grinned at him. Peter grinned back.

Wade sat down on the edge of the bed next to him while Peter pulled his shorts up, offered him a tissue. Peter laughed, used it to clean himself up.

And then, looking a little more serious, Wade said, “Call me next time, okay? I bet I can take your mind off of it without hurting you like that.”

“Alright,” Peter agreed, and felt his heart thump in his chest.

Wade flopped across his legs, then, and didn’t move.

Peter just laughed and didn’t bother trying to move him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> new chapter at long last! it's like, ridiculously short in comparison to the other four, but i hope you guys enjoy!  
> we're getting into actual plot territory now, so hold on to your butts lol

Peter had a tendency to get bitter about things very quickly.

Particularly, he’d found, when there was any amount of positive emotional attachment to something.

So it stood to reason, he guessed, that when he started realizing he had what was definitely more than a crush on Wade fucking Wilson, he got bitter about it within  _ hours. _ He’d had suspicions for days, weeks, maybe even months by that point. Had thought he might have a crush. Was fine with having a  _ crush _ because those went away. And sure, they were supposed to go away quickly or whatever, but when you really only see someone when you’re patrolling with them or having sex, you don’t have a lot of time to have more than just a crush on them and not a lot of time to stop having it.

But realizing, horrified and nearly sick, that he  _ definitely had more than a crush… _

Ugh.

Goodbye perfectly respectable Tuesday morning, he _ llo _ bitter train to hate-everything-ville.

He wanted to smack himself, really, and he wanted to smack Wade too just for good measure. He’d been doing so well. He hadn’t been letting himself get overly comfortable and he hadn’t let himself get complacent and reliant on Wade’s presence. He’d been trying so hard to keep some level of emotional distance just to make things easier on both of them in the long run.

He wasn’t a good boyfriend. He’d never  _ been _ a good boyfriend and he’d especially suck at it now, almost a decade on from the last time he’d really given a shit about anyone. So even if Wade on  _ some off-chance _ happened to also have more than just friendly feelings and lust for him, it would never work out. Peter sucked and he  _ knew _ he sucked.

No point getting his hopes up that Wade would give a shit about him romantically in the first place, let alone getting his hopes up that it would ever work out.

So he was bitter about it, and when he got bitter he was even less fun to be around.

… Which was why he wasn’t sure why Wade was sticking through it three days after he figured out his feelings, considering Peter had been nothing but one-hundred percent abrasive and angry the whole time Wade had been around him today.

Then again, he put up with Wade when  _ Wade _ was being a shithead, so maybe Wade was just trying to return the favor.

That would make more sense than any of the alternatives that Peter was managing to come up with.

Still, he wasn’t expecting Wade to decide it was movie night without any talking about it occurring between them, and he definitely wasn’t expecting Wade to pull him against his side and cuddle him through the first three movies that Peter decided to actually watch.

He grumbled under his breath, cuddling into Wade’s side at last and getting a light hum from the other man for his troubles. Sixth movie of he night, fourth one that Peter had paid any attention at all to, and his attention to this one was fading quickly. One of Wade’s cheesy rom-coms, this one ― not Peter’s style, really.

But he’d watch it, if it kept Wade here, and he felt himself getting bitter about the real issue all over again.

He had it bad for Wade, and he wished he didn’t. This wasn’t going to end in anything but pain.

But he pushed the thoughts, and the bitterness, away and averted his eyes from the screen. Maybe if he just sat here distracted for the next hour and a half he could get through it without getting awful about it. He  _ did _ like laying here, after all. Maybe he could just fall asleep.

That’d be cool.

If he fell asleep on Wade, he’d carry him to bed, right? That was what he normally did.

He got a little bitter again, thinking about that, because he got very attached to the idea. The idea that Wade usually just carried him off to bed when he fell asleep on him. Cared enough to move him off the couch to his bed so he’d sleep comfortably… But definitely didn’t want to date him, because they were both pretty happy being friends with benefits. And…

Ugh.

Feelings.

Well. Despite his best efforts, it looked like he was going to spend the whole movie sulking. Like a child.

But at least he wasn’t paying attention to it, because that would… Probably be worse.

He fought not to huff, blowing out a careful breath instead and hoping the Wade was more occupied with the movie than he was with him. When Wade didn’t respond to the breath, he breathed an internal sigh of relief. Good. He didn’t want to be acknowledged, really ― not right now.

He turned his face further into Wade’s chest, closing his eyes but nonetheless watching behind his eyelids as the lights from the TV gently changed and flickered.

Whichever characters were on the screen right now bickered quietly back and forth.

It was… Far more comfortable, and far less annoying, than he expected it to be.

Wade’s arm squeezed around him, thumb stroking up and down his bicep. A small sigh left the larger male, and he shifted minutely ― just enough to knock his still-masked chin against the top of Peter’s head. And it was so tender that he kind of wanted to puke. Or scream.

But instead he just breathed out.

“Still with me, Petey?” Wade asked, several moments of silence later.

“Mhm.” He hummed.

“Not feelin’ the movie?”

“Not really a rom-com guy,” He snorted, peeking his eyes open to look up at Wade, who had his face tilted down to look at him as well, “I usually spend the whole movie yelling at the characters for being more emotionally stunted than I am.”

It got a snort from Wade as well, and he squeezed him, “They  _ are _ all pretty dumb."

“Don’t stop watching on my account, though,” Peter murmured after a moment, “If it’s your thing, go for it.”

Wade hummed, silent for a moment before saying, “Well, it  _ did _ get you to stop being huffy…”

Peter winced at that, screwing his face up. “Ugh. Yeah, I guess it did.”

But he didn’t apologize, because he couldn’t get his mouth to form the words, let alone release them. Not that he figured Wade cared enough to  _ want _ an apology. If he did he’d probably be a lot less friendly right now.

… Still, how were  _ two words _ so hard to say?

“I  _ was _ kinda being a douche, huh?” Is what came out instead, after a long moment.

“Eh,” Wade shrugged with the shoulder Peter wasn’t laying on, “We all have bad days, don’t worry about it.”

Peter snorted, a little, then closed his eyes again and got comfortable.

He was still feeling pretty bitter, but this was… Nice.

“Hey.” He said, after the credits rolled, and powered through the way he wanted to shrink in on himself and disappear.

Wade hummed in question, busy flicking through the channels for a new movie.

It was almost two in the morning, now, so most of what was on was shitty pay-per-view porn or reruns of old,  _ old _ shows. And, that aside, it was almost two in the morning, and Peter typically made most of his bad decisions at two AM anyway. May as well make this one right now.

Besides.

Two AM was the best possible time to ask hypothetical questions.

“Don’t― Don’t get the wrong idea from me asking this. It’s purely hypothetical.” He said, and Wade turned to look at him immediately. Ugh. Okay. Power through. “I, uh… Listen, it’s the middle of the night and my brain is stuck on the fuckin’ rom-com so bare with me. I just… D’ya think we’d, like… Work? As a couple?”

Somehow, he could tell Wade was blinking at him.

“Stupid question.” Peter sighed in annoyance, looking away, “Forget I asked.”

It was silent for a long moment.

Wade was completely still.

Peter could hear his heart pounding, sensitive ears picking up on it in the quiet of the living room far too easily.

“Seriously,” He said, pulling himself out of Wade’s grasp and pulling his knees to his chest, “You don’t have to get weird about it. Forget it.”

Another moment of stillness and silence.

“... Right.” Wade finally uttered, “Right. Uh. Sorry?”

Peter huffed, and he wasn’t sure if he was more upset with himself for asking, or Wade for reacting pretty much exactly the way he’d expected him to. No answer was an answer in and of itself.

Wade didn’t think they’d work.

He didn’t have to say it for Peter to know, because the silence explained it pretty fucking succinctly.

He was bitter all over again.

“Just. Caught me off guard, is all,” Wade fumbled, “Not a question I expect from you.”

He merely huffed again, but at least this one bordered on sounding amused instead of annoyed.

As bitter as he was, he didn’t…

He didn’t want to take it out on Wade.

It wasn’t really even  _ his _ fault.

It was all Peter and his stupid fucking feelings and his stupid fucking questions.

He remained curled in on himself with his knees to his chest, and Wade returned to scrolling through the TV guide.

“Just put on some of the shitty porn,” Peter finally snorted, uncurling, “It’s the only thing with semi-decent acting you’re gonna find at this hour.”

Wade cackled so hard he snorted.

The tension in the air broke, and even if Peter was still bitter he felt a little better.

“I mean, if we’re gonna watch porn,” Wade snickered, “You wanna get busy?”

“If there’s anything that can get my dick hard.” Peter felt his lips curling into a smile, “Otherwise it’s gonna be a lot of work for you.”

“It’s not gonna be a lot of work,” Wade said, fairly confidently, voice dropping into that low growl that had Peter wanting to melt right into the back cushion of the couch, “I know what buttons to push, Petey.”

Peter valiantly resisted a shudder. “Prove it, then.”

Wade clearly grinned, based on the way his mask stretched. “Only if I’m allowed to get it on camera.”

And since Peter was getting used to that particular kink of Wade’s he just smirked at him and said, “You can record it as long as you get my good side.”

And, well.

Peter didn’t know if Wade had gotten his good side by the end of it, but he took it in good faith that Wade had at least gotten a side of him that Wade thought was good. After all ― he had no plans to go through Wade’s phone to look at the porn they made together.

He wasn’t camera shy, but he hated looking at himself after the fact.

Still.

Laying sprawled on his back on the couch, hands above his head and over the arm of the couch, he tried to catch his breath while Wade bustled about the room and made sure they both got cleaned up. His eyelids were drooping shut by the time Wade lifted him into his arms, and he barely managed to hum in response to being held.

Wade tucked him into bed, and he heard him bustling around a little more ― taking off his suit as he usually did. Peter wanted to peek his eyes open, take a look… But he was tired, and he had more respect for Wade than that.

Wade settled in behind him, throwing an arm over him.

He didn’t even manage to hum in response.

And Wade breathed in slow. Sighed.

And uttered, “Damn, just had to ask a question I couldn’t answer.” He clearly shook his head, kissing the back of Peter’s head. “I’m… Not a good boyfriend, Petey.”

Peter didn’t respond, because he was beyond the point where he could… But he processed that it had been said, nonetheless.

It was a very,  _ very _ small comfort to know that Wade thinking they wouldn’t work out was a result of Wade feeling it would be  _ his _ fault if it didn’t work out, but a comfort nonetheless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i need y'all to know i almost titled this chapter "why watch shitty porn when you can just make your own" before i was finished with it and before i decided to not actually write the smut


End file.
